bulanbiru: April 2015

A Trip to Italy. Really? After a slew of slow travel tales with silly titles like "Melbourne Memory", "A Picture of Paris" and "Hong Kong Hangover", I can understand it if you're holding out for even more thoughtless titles like "The Italian Job", "Romancing Rome" or "You're Too Brutal, Brutus". But no, not this time. You're already dazed and damaged after paying tax on your tax, it's unfair to tax you further with a slick travel title. So A Trip To Italy it is, and it's about a trip to Italy.

About Italy (And Italians)

Italy isn't easy.

Dante and da Vinci on the one hand, Berlusconi and Balotelli on the other. Cradle of civilization and core of corruption and all things in between. Its politics and finances are such a dithering mess that the only way out is to invade Bavaria.

But what you can never fault is its offbeat dynamism. Italy is never boring. It changes and renews itself. Italians are exceptionally curious, creative and adventurous people. Not to mention talented and good-looking. Hollywood's sad portrayal and stereotyping of Italians is both unfair and unfortunate.

They're by nature easy-going, and some might have drifted into organized crimes and frauds, but they're really few and far between. There are many more famous Italian artists, actors, scientists, explorers and footballers (it's alright if you know only Sophia Loren). In primary school, I was taught about the epic expeditions of wayward Italian seafarers like Marco Polo and Christopher Columbus. I was so fired up that I memorised all the dates. But our teacher was quick to put a damper by reminding us that they're nothing compared to our home-grown Laksamana Hang Tuah who'd travelled all the way to Indonesia.

The first time I fell for Italy was when I watched the Godfather. I'd read the Mario Puzo mafia opus in record time, but the movie was even better. The part where the young, dreamy Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) went on his first date with a local Sicilian girl, and the title song Speak Softly Love soared, and the whole village turned up to cheer the couple on was so cool and heart-warming. But what struck me most was the backdrop: a village clinging precariously to a hilltop. Pretty, old and sensual. How long must I wait before I could see and feel something like this?

About forty years.

Going To Italy

I finally went to Italy, on 20 March this year, with wife and my two girls Aida and Sarah. An unsuspecting sister-in-law, probably misled by all the tall-tales and fish stories in my travel blogs, joined us. She brought along her full-grown son. So altogether it's six of us.

Actually I have another eight sisters-in-law and I did invite every one of them to join our party, just to be fair. They all declined for a variety of reasons, like husband was unwell, husband couldn't fly without his bicycle, husband wanted to buy the whole Tesco before GST, and so on. Well, you don't want to know any of this, but you'd appreciate that I'm just trying to be fair here.

We didn't use Air Asia this time only because the airline didn't fly to Italy or Sicily or any part of Europe now. We took Etihad and had to lay over at Abu Dhabi airport, which was technically part of the vast Arabian desert. As expected, Etihad was different. 30 kg baggage, non-stop meals and juices, latest movies, noise-cancelling head-phones, cold-cancelling blankets etc. And the doa before the take-off was a nice touch and a humbling reminder.

Italy Itinerary

And we didn't go to Sicily, of course. You don't go to Sicily. You go back to Sicily.

I'm afraid at this point my brother-in-law, who's not very good with places and spaces, might get seriously confused. Is Italy Sicily? If I didn't go to Sicily, how did I go to Italy? Is Ottawa the capital of Italy? Sorry, but let me explain. Sicily is an island and is part of Italy, just like Penang is an island and part of Malaysia (Note: there's no DAP in Sicily. At least, not yet). Technically, we went to the non-Sicily part of Italy.

Our itinerary reads like this: KL to Abu Dhabi to Rome to Siena to Florence to Venice, then back to Rome then back to Abu Dhabi then finally back to KL. From 21 March through 29 March. Altogether 9 days, 8 nights. Reliable travel agencies like Reliance or Kopetro would promote this itinerary as 3 countries, 14 cities, 14 days, 8 nights.

We stuck to our London and Paris formula. We rented a car at Rome Fiumicino airport and then headed out and broke at Siena (3 nights) and Ferrara (2 nights) before swinging back to Rome (3 nights). Siena and Ferrara were kind of base camps for further assaults on the surrounding towns. From Siena, we covered Pisa, Lucca and San Gimignano. On the way to our next base at Ferrara, we would stop off at Florence. From Ferrara, we hit Venice. Finally we drove south for about 400 km from Ferrara via Bologna to Rome for the last three nights. From Rome, we roamed Rome.

All the cities with pretty names above are genuine and deserving Unesco world heritage sites, unlike Melaka which tricked its way into the list by claiming that the Jonker Street pineapple tarts recipe was passed down by the 16th century Portuguese Jesuit priests.

Linearis Casa Vacanze e Agriturismo Podere Sertofano, Siena (21 - 24 March, 3 nights).

This isn't an Italian expression of surprise. It's a farmhouse. We holed up here for the first three nights in Italy. About 9 km from Siena, the house was smack in the middle of the Tuscany (Toscana) region famed for its postcard-pretty landscape and scenery. Many Hollywood movies were shot here, including The Gladiator, Under the Tuscan Sun and The American. It's alright if you haven't watched any of them. My wife swore that she'd seen a Malay TV drama with a Tuscany backdrop. I thought she's aging exponentially.

We'd to climb an off-road to get to the farmhouse. The interior had been remodelled to fit in six apartments. We took one unit with three rooms, a kitchen and a bath at 288 Euro (RM1200) for three nights. Our farmhouse had a real farm with a human farmer, not a virtual farm and a human nerd like FarmVille. It's surrounded by endless acres of olive groves and vineyards. The scenery was simply unbelievable. Farmstay or Agriturismo is now a trend and I'd encourage you to try it before it goes out of fashion like FarmVille.

Handsome Hill Towns

From our location we ventured out to Siena, San Gimignano, Pisa and Lucca. Like I said, these sweet-sounding towns were all ancient and steeped in history with rich medieval architecture and engineering on full display. San Gimignano and its towers, in particular, was a gem and it's a pity that you've never heard of it. Time stood still here and the atmosphere conspired to render a sense of serenity and unhurried life of 2000 years past. Streets were narrow and rough, but very safe and quiet without Malaysian drivers. Non-residents were not allowed to drive into the town centre at the top, so we'd to park at the foot and climb up. I overheard my wife and her sister breathing heavily behind me.

A piazza or city square is a standard feature of Italian towns, big or small. The smaller the town, the bigger the piazza. Don't mix up piazza with pizza or Pisa. Piazza is a square hemmed in by buildings with brownish and yellowish facades, and it's where most Italians converge and do what they do best: nothing. Pizza, on the other hand, is small and expensive everywhere. Pisa is Pisa.

Both Siena and Lucca were certainly impressive, with typical narrow alleys and expressive buildings and cathedrals. Their piazzas are worth a visit if you have no morbid fear of too much space. Those who've done MRI would find these places therapeutic. Siena's Piazza Il Campo especially was huge and expansive, reputedly the loveliest empty space in Italy. It's the site of the mad biannual Palio bareback horse-race you saw on the National Geographic channel and repeated on Astro 500 times in one week.

Lucca is smaller but equally old and graceful with no less than three piazzas to boot. Signages and directions (and public toilets) are definitely not Italy's strong suit. It took us almost one hour to find Piazza del Mercato, the biggest of the bloody piazzas. I really thought I was mentally failing, losing all my senses and just too old. To make matters worse, we easily stumbled upon a halal kebab shop, which was never a tourist attraction. I was very relieved when a niece later told me that she had the same problems when she visited Lucca three years ago. She added that it's a lot easier to find all the tourist attractions in Gombak, where she now lives. Thank you, Mek.

I thought that Sicilian village in the Godfather was pretty. It's pretty pedestrian compared to the glorious San Gimignano and Siena.

Galileo And The Leaning Tower

Pisa was the easiest and friendliest city to visit. From the car park, it's an easy 500 km walk to Campo dei Miracoli, where our object of desire, the Leaning Tower, stood. Aida and Sarah jumped at the sight of the tilting structure. It's freakishly beautiful with a clean all-white tone and perfect cylindrical form.

Looking at the tower, I tried to picture the great scientific mind Galileo doing the fabled experiment. He threw two two balls from the tower to debunk once and for all the scientific wisdom that heavy ball always falls faster. I'm not very good at physics, so I didn't understand all the fuss. Maybe this breakthrough is important if you play football and score lots of goals with your head, like Edin Dzeko. In the meantime sister-in-law and son did the world's most maligned "pushing the Leaning Tower" camera trick. The picture that came out was so realistic that both of them looked heavier than the tower (actually the tower was heavier, but not by much).

Apart from Siena and San Gimignano, there were many other similar walled hill towns in Italy, like Volterra, Orvieto and Montepulciano. I always wondered at all the efforts and expenses required to build towns like these. According to a taxi driver in Siena, it's easier to protect and defend a hill town from invaders like Attila, Hannibal and Chelsea supporters. Now I know why Melaka was attacked and easily taken by the Portuguese (once), Dutch (once), British (twice), Japanese (once) and Javanese (now). I heard that Kelantan is now eyeing Melaka as part of its long-term political and spiritual expansion.

Villa Regina at Cona near Ferrara (24 - 26 March, 2 Nights)

No trick here. It's a small hotel with basic breakfast. We put up here for two nights for our tour of Florence and Bologna (Bologna). The hotel was in Cona, a small town about 5 km to Ferrara and one and a half hour to Venice.

Any good travel book will tell you that Florence and Venice are a must for any serious Italy itinerary. And our itinerary was very serious.

Firenze And Bandung

Somehow, I thought Florence (Firenze) was tame by Italy's very high standards. Maybe because we're not art and culture vultures who roam the museums. But my jaw still dropped at the sight of its Cathedral, Florence landmark since the 11th century. The city's alleys were teeming with quaint shops plying high quality, non-designer leather bags and accessories. They're good value even if you convert the prices into your wretched ringgit. It's hard to keep a cool head here, as my wife and her sister found out. One shop owner claimed that Malaysian Sultan and wife bought something from his shop. Speculate, if you like. I didn't tell him that Malaysia actually has nine sultans.

Later I found out that although Florence is the hotbed of Italy's leather industry, it's not the cheapest place to buy leather goods. It's just like Bandung isn't the best place to eat mee bandung. In fact you can't find mee bandung in Bandung. Not an elegant analogy, admittedly, but you surely get my point. Buy leather bags in Rome or anywhere in Italy but not in Florence.

Gerimis Di Venice

Venice or Venezia was every bit what I'd imagined. Maybe more. The rain didn't dampen our spirits one bit. Venice was so stunning, unique and inspiring, oozing so much aura and charm. You could never be prepared enough for something like this. Simply out of this world. An engineering and architectural marvel, it's a city built on islands with canals and bridges criss-crossing it.

This was truly a trip to reminisce, starting with the 10th floor parking at Piazzala Roma, slow boat ride along the city-splitting Canal Grande, gaping at exquisite facades and marble domes, ambling aimlessly up and down the lively Piazza San Marco, traipsing around the narrow alleyways and pathways, and tracking back to Rialto boat station for the return trip. The boat was packed and we're all crushed and drenched. I saw Sarah, the smallest person on the boat, shaking and grasping for air.

Visiting Venice isn't cheap even if you're already in Italy. In our case parking fee alone was 30 Euro and the boat ride was 84 Euro. So it's about RM 76 per head just to go there and do nothing. But it's well worth it. It'd cost you your arm if you hit the museums or got scammed by the gondolas. I don't know how much it cost George Clooney recently when he went to Venice and married his 25th girlfriend. Must be well worth it.

At sea-level and vulnerable, Venice is an antithesis of the hill towns. Instead of idly waiting for attacks, it decided to go global by starting world's first money-for-flesh loan scheme now widely practised by all banks and Ah Longs (read the Merchant of Venice and Annual Bank Negara Report). Marco Polo was sent to China to trade fake silk with Kublai Khan. This fakes business would've never been possible had Marco lived in the Tuscan hills instead of Venice waterfront.

We'd planned for a quick tour of Bologna on the way back to Rome as I'd wanted to see the University of Bologna, the oldest university in the western world, and buy a real college t-shirt to match the fake University of Pisa we bought at the Leaning Tower. We reached the place quite easily but just couldn't find a legal parking space. We gave up, and tapped the GPS for a quick exit to the A1 Autostrada. Rome was about 370 km away.

146, Via Cavour, Rome (26 - 27 March, 3 nights)

It's an apartment on via Cavour, a major artery in Rome city centre. It's on the fourth floor of an old block with no lift, about 700 m from Rome Termini railway station. This building was at least 100 years old and its one storey was actually two times higher than one storey of any standard and sub-standard house in Malaysia. So we'd to actually walk up eight floors. When we reached the apartment, the heavy sister-in-law almost passed out.

I'd booked this place through Tripadvisor, and now we got to meet the owner, Marco, who came to greet us with a friend. Aida reminded us that he's the third Marco we'd met in five days. He gave us the key and showed us around the apartment: two rooms, a kitchen, a bath, and heater. He left us a bowl of apples and a bottle of wine. We appreciated the thought, but it didn't stop us from speculating that Marco's friend was actually Marco's boyfriend. Hahaha.

Romping In Rome

It's Rome, finally. The Eternal City. Rome, or Roma, is smaller than London or Paris. Like London and Paris and other great cities (eg Kota Bharu), it has a river. But River Tiber, when I saw it, was narrow and yellow and all in all charmless and nowhere near the flourish and splendour of Thames or Seine.

But Rome's gorgeous monuments, sculptures, structures and other vestigial remains of its past triumph simply had no equal. These tourist draws were not too far apart. They could be explored on foot in one day, unless you stopped at, say, Colosseum one whole day to reflect and visualise what it's like to fight a lion. We did just that (cover in one day, not fight the lion). In one day we did Colosseum, Roman Forum, Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps, Piazza Navona, concluding at Piazza del Popolo. It's an easy walk for a total distance of about 3 km. We took the Metro back to our Apartment. The better option was always to walk back on a different route and enjoy different sights. My wife and sister-in-law were all shot and I didn't have the heart to suggest anything imaginative.

March is actually off-season but the crowd was thick at these spots. We started with Colosseum which was only 400 m from our apartment. There's a very long queue snaking towards the entrance. We decided not to compete. This sublime piece of Italian architecture and grandeur had from time immemorial been the iconic face of Rome. Intense and gripping, it could stop you dead on your tracks.

We just hung about trying our best to appear as literate and educated as we possibly could against the raunchy Chinese tourists who're more interested in photobombing rather watching the crumbling Colosseum. It's easy to denounce these Chinese jet set for being what they really were i.e Chinese. But with 9000 km of Great Wall crashing in their backyard, they'd seen more than enough old structures collapse. They'd really want to see something different, and I would strongly suggest they visit Trengganu, where they could watch new structures fall down. Not just stadiums, but also mosques, airports, hospitals, politicians etc. More variety, more value.

The neighbouring Roman Forum was elaborate and slightly difficult to get the message if you, like me, don't have a degree in ancient Roman politics. Pantheon, Trevi Fountain and the two Piazzas were more straight-forward, and the attitude and atmosphere here was decidedly happier. Time and again you'd to stop and marvel at the art and architecture on offer, which had been variously described as medieval, gothic, renaissance, Romanesque, baroque, bad-ass and so on. I'd never know which is which. Trevi Fountain was closed for some restoration works. I suspected they're drying it up to collect the coins. Italy, the one-time economic and technological powerhouse, has really fallen on hard times.

Pope And Poet

Spanish Steps and the adjacent Piazza di Spagna were a fun place. The crowd was young and boisterous. I'm not sure what these steps actually were, but they're filled to the brim. My wife and I were easily the oldest couple that afternoon. We joined the crowd just for the hell of it. We sat on the steps, catching our knees before we moved on. The English poet John Keats loved this place, and he lived and died here 100 years ago, when crowds were gentler and he could write romantic poems. No living poets come to die here now.

The next day it's Vatican City, home of the Pope and officially the smallest state in the world. It's quite alright if you still think Perlis is the smallest state. Next to Colosseum, Vatican is the most visited and photographed part of Rome. Again it's all thronged and packed with people from about everywhere. St Peter's Square and Basilica, like other Roman structures, were imposing and so massive that my standard camera lens couldn't fit all of it in. The crowd was well behaved, and you know why. Angels and demons walked this place, and if that eponymous movie was to be believed, there's plenty of scandals and skullduggery going on behind the somber and saintly veneer.

Fake Market Day

Our last day was 29 March, a Sunday. Our flight had been scheduled for 9.45 evening. There's still time for one final foray, and this time to what was supposed to be the biggest street market in Italy, the Porta Portese Sunday market in the Trasvetere area, across the Tiber. The market was big, no doubt, but the goods on offer were disappointing. The problem was the same in markets everywhere now: cheap fakes and African traders.

Actually the best place to buy genuine Italian stuff was the small family-run shops around Piazza Navona and Pantheon. The ones at Via Del Governo Vecchio were certainly worth a look. The stuff carried no designer labels, but you could feel the pure Italian care and craftmanship. Prices were surprisingly affordable even for retirees. Aida snapped up a rare-looking leather shoulder bag for her college runs for 40 Euro. You can buy a Burberry or Mulberry anywhere in the world. But stuff from Via Del Governo Vecchio can only be bought at Via Del Governo Vechhio.

Italy in Italics

Despite its economic difficulties, Italy is swamped by migrants, mostly from Africa and South Asia (India, Pakistan, Bangladesh). They stuck out like sore thumbs and they're everywhere, from Florence, Venice right to Rome. At every tourist spot, they'd be hawking all kinds of fake stuff and selfie sticks. These artists saw the words "We are tourists. Hit us" written all over us, so we're real hot.

To be fair, these traders were quite harmless. Most speak English very well and they're quite useful if you need direction to Vatican or toilet. Some were proud Muslims like us. These people were fine with me. Just look at the positive side: it's fun listening to Banglas speaking Italian for a change.

Some of these traders prospered and they opened up restaurants around the Termini Rail Station, offering halal cuisines with faux Italian names. We discovered these vibrant food joints on the last day. Sister-in-law and son splurged all their remaining Euros on kebab, beryani and pizza here. They finished off the food before they could convert into ringgit. Quite awe-inspiring.

Afterword

Italy is everything. Classic countryside, lovely landscapes, showpiece structures, ancient towns, rich cultural heritage, you name it. Fruits, mineral water and chocolate are abundant and shamelessly cheap. The Italian language is so smooth. Listen to the Italians (or Bangla migrants) speak the language and it's like listening to somebody reading a poem. The city names are easy on the ear: Siena, Ferrara, Verona. Compare that to Gombak.

You might notice that there's no record of our visits to museums. It's only because we didn't visit any museum. We're never trained to go to museums. The last time we visited Museum Negara was about fifteen years ago when there's an exhibition of Malay ghosts. My two girls kept asking me throughout "Which one's the ghost?". It's a very well-organized hoax. I could only hope that our Prime Minister wasn't in any way involved. We weren't exactly traumatized and it didn't cost us all that much, but the hangover lasted for a while.

But, really, for the truly cultured and refined, Italy is a visual and emotional feast. Museums and art galleries are everywhere, and they're all bona fide and fraud-free. One travel book recommends three days in Florence, with two days just for the museums. Do you think those Chinese tourists we met visit the museums? I think they're off to the factory outlets.

For us, Italy is still an incredible experience even without the museums. If you take away the river, Rome is practically a museum. Tuscany is a live and living painting, and all the reason you ever need to visit Italy.

Arrivederci

Our flight was on time. From Rome to Abu Dhabi, it's Alitalia, which was actually 49% Etihad. It's a 5-hour stop-over at the desert airport before a connecting flight to KL on Etihad, which was 100% Etihad. We had a delicious lamb beryani on board.

We landed at KLIA at about 10 pm, 30 March. My two boys were waiting at the airport to whisk us back home. I can still recall the first time travelling overseas with them (to UK) 22 years ago, when they're still in primary school. Lots of fun.

The next morning I went out with wife for our weekly away-ground breakfast. As we sat down to enjoy our favourite roti canai, those famous words came to haunt us "a man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it". Hahaha.

Questi giorni quando vieni il belle sole
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