Signing off

 Ciao.   The dishes are done, the bags are packed, and the last pop of Prosecco has come and gone.   Ahead lies a 2 hour flight to Rome, then a 10.5 hour to Calgary, then another 2 hours to Victoria.   My iPad is armed with about 10 hours of movies, our seats are chosen, resignation and depression have set in.   I can’t believe it’s over.

Brindisi was lovely today.  We found a pedestrian mall with some tempting stores (no room in luggage, too bad), strolled the waterfront again, explored the innards going south and found a few fascinating nuggets of history.   By far the most intriguing was the St. John the Baptist cathedral, which is actually a museum featuring the most fantastic antiquities from the 16th and 17th century.  Originally build in about 1100, the church was redesigned 600 years later after a fire, but the treasures within are fantastic.   Sadly there were no descriptions of the artifacts in English and so I translated a few when I got home.  The books are from the archbishop’s writing in about 1720, but their ornate covers were so beautiful that I wished I could have touched them, even just once.  Beautiful goblets (Prosecco, anyone?), more bits and pieces of people/saints or the venerated stashed here and there.  And the frescos, always so stunning.

It was a grand way to spend our last day in Italy.  Tonight, we are winding down, double-checking passports and tickets and figuring out where the hell are the liquids and how much olive oil is under 100 mL?  I guess I’ll find out, maybe the hard way when they confiscate my Amalfi garlic olive oil.  This adventure has been beyond comparison and exceeded my expectations and hopes a thousand times over.  Italy, you are in my heart forever.

                                           In the courtyard at St. Anna’s… Roman columns just lying there.  Gasp!

Easy, Breezy Brindisi

 It’s officially our last full day in Italy.   I can hardly believe the past month, the things we have seen, the places we have traveled, the adventures and the misadventures.  But, all good things must come to an end and I prefer to think of endings as simply the transition to new beginnings.

Brindisi is relatively flat and yesterday’s walk around town was easy and fast.   This is a mariner town for sure, there are fountains and statues and tributes to the men of the sea and those who fought to defend the shores for a thousand years or more.   It is a quiet place, especially during afternoon siesta, when the streets are folded up and all is quite silent.  What a change after the hustle and bustle of Milan, Naples or Firenze. 

A few shots taken under a brilliant blue sky:

I’m not sure how we’ll spend these last 24 hours in Italy, but the sun is out, the sky is blue, and we’ve got more exploring on board.   Avante! 

Chaio, Bella Salerno!

 I’m composing this off line, while sitting on a high speed train from Salerno to Brindisi, about a 5 hour journey.   We caught our first connector with ease and now here we are, with not much to do except for look out the windows and admire the scenery.  And wish they would wash the train windows more frequently.  This train is from Rome and was pretty full when it pulled into the station, so it was lucky that we bought our tickets on line when we did.  Guaranteed seating for a long trip is the only way to go, even if Dave and I are in aisle seats, facing each other.

                                          All are welcome on Trainitalia!

Anyway.   Yesterday was a 30G step day, and every one of them a joy.  We revisited the beautiful shoreline walk in the morning, pushing further along the harbour for quite some time until we ran out of sidewalks.  It’s a busy, pretty port, with a couple of gargantuan cruise ships in and many expensive private yachts.   The “passeggiata” walk is a sweet Italian tradition, families and lots of dogs join the young and the old on a lazy, relaxed stroll.   It’s so utterly non-North American in its simplicity and pace.  We eventually wound up St. Mathias church, where the tomb of Matthew, one of the disciples is.   Such ornate beauty and attention to detail left me gasping.  What a tribute to the hand of man, and what can be created through faith and inspiration.

Eventually we found our way to another church, some ancient Roman aqueducts, and then a courtyard with a sweet little restaurant, where we split an amazing smoked salmon and avocado salad for our lunch.   A lazy stroll back to the hotel and an hour to rest our feet - while eating limoncello babas (gift from Enza), and then off we went again, this time up, up and more up to the most glorious views of sparkling Salerno.   We could not find the one church that we wanted to, and two more were closed thanks to it being late Sunday afternoon.    In our wandering though we did manage to find the exquisite Minerva gardens, dating back to Medieval times.   More climbing, more vistas.  We did get a little turned around on the way back as the cobblestone streets were somewhat reminiscent of Naples (thankfully, without the buzzing motorcycles), and that managed to add quite a few more steps.  Believe me when I say my legs have never been so strong.

                                 Totally lost, but what a view!

                          For a thousand years a spring has run through this grotto.

                                      The busy, friendly, sunny harbour

Dinner was at Pinocchio’s, a great discovery near the waterfront, and we celebrated the day with spaghetti and grilled fish and veggies.   Some sort of wild celebration was going on in the park on the waterside, but unfortunately most of the restaurants were closed.  Again, Sunday.   No matter, this was a great find and we really enjoyed our meals.   It was such beautiful weather, mild and warm, so we decided to stroll up and down the pedestrian way that our little hotel is on.   It was buzzing with action and chattering people, vibrant and engaging.   It was so tough to finally stop for the night but a long day of travel demanded it, so it was back to our rooms and to a fairly respectable sleep. I’ll miss beautiful Salerno very much.

                                This fresco, from the first century, is still beautiful.

                                     Somewhat macabre reminder of the fragility of life.

                                              Part of the Roman aqueducts.