Congratulations Georg!!

Georg correctly answered the question of the preceding post, thus proving that he is the only person actually reading what we write… just kidding.

Here is the original picture taken from our speeding car on the highway, (we were in the “slow” lane doing 140kph) when Jen snapped this picture showing the mountains of marble in the background and the mason wholesalers in the foreground handling massive blocks of the stone.

Doesn’t look like they are going to run out any time soon.

Us Overdose

Just in case you are not sick of seeing pictures of us, we found a way of making it easier for you to check out our larger collection of photos. We have added links to our albums in the right margin, which we will keep updated as internet access allows. Cheers!

A Slice of Pisa

Pisa was a two hour drive from Parma, a nice little day trip. We left before any of the cafes opened so by the time we hit the mountains we were in serious need of caffeine. We stopped at the highway rest stop where there was an “autogrille”. Expecting the burned carafe coffee that one would find in a roadside stop at home we were pleasantly surprised when we ended up with a cappuccino and fresh squeezed orange juice. The barrista was happy to serve us and perhaps even happier to be drinking wine from a paper cup at 8:30 in the morning. This country is civilized I tell you.

We arrived in Pisa and made our way to one of the gates to the city. Rounding the corner and entering the gate we definitely had one of those “stop in your tracks and gape shamelessly” moments. The tower is just one of the attractions in the Piazza dei Miracoli (Plaza of Miracles); there is also a stunning cathedral and baptistry all made of marble and set on a lush green lawn.


Of course we couldn’t resist following in the footsteps of millions before us in snapping a couple cheesy shots of us “holding up the tower” or “pushing the tower over”

On our drive back we passed through Carrara, and snapped this shot of the mountains.
Pop Quiz: Why do these mountains appear snowy and the surrounding mountains do not?
It has nothing to do with altitude.
While you ponder, here are a few more pics:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=15382&l=2fa69&id=700132588

Quickie

I have 3 minutes on a foreign keyboard for a quick update. We just arrived in Rome and have many updates for you. We have been cave dwelling, volcano climbing, nose blowing (bad sinus cold) and doing marathon train and ferry journeys. We look forward to updating you as soon as we find a good connection here.
Miss you all!
xoxo

Parma -Ham it up and say cheese!

Parma, the city famous for Parmagiano Reggiano cheese and Prosciutto di Parma has become one of the unexpected highlights of Italy so far! If you have little interest in shopping or in food- you might as well stop reading now. On the other hand, if you are in Natalie’s histology class, this might be another welcome break from pseudostratified columnar epithelium. I am going to make two entries for this one starting with shopping.
As Adam and I researched Parma, we discovered that we would need a car if we wanted to see the highlights of Parma. Since we were doing most of our sightseeing on Sunday and Monday we had to pick up the car on Saturday (the pick-up location wasn’t open on Sunday). Here is a simple algebra equation that I ran through my head:
Car = freedom
Sightseeing = Sunday + Monday
Freedom = Saturday + Sunday + Monday
Therefore (Saturday + Sunday +Monday) – (Sunday + Monday) = one free day Saturday
Outlet center nearby + freedom = SHOPPING!!

But I’m afraid it is not that simple…. I have married a man that hates shopping. Fortunately…. ummm I mean unfortunately, Adam lost a shirt somewhere along the way and is down to 2 shirts. Cunningly, I use this to my advantage. “You can buy a new shirt” and “most certainly there will be gadget stores there sweetie”…. SOLD! Just for extra insurance, I give Adam a packing list for the day:
iPod
laptop
book
chocolate

We hit the road in search of an outlet center I had found written about on the web. If it weren’t for GPS we would have never found this place. Unlike our outlets at home (shiny, new, over-advertised, and picked-over with no real bargains to be found), this place was the real deal. A nondescript building tucked away down an unsuspecting country road with the occasional “diffusione tessile” sign as the only hint of it's existence. We got Adam’s tactical shopping out of the way first, quickly finding him a replacement shirt and a nice cashmere sweater. After getting him all settled in with the creature comforts, I hit the BCBG/ Max Azria outlet; rack upon rack of bargains being skillfully picked through by the stiletto clad hardcore shoppers, their signature huge shades temporarily relocated to their heads. (I think Italian women are born with Barbie feet- you know, permanently bent into a high heel position. They wear killer heels everywhere, even exploring Roman ruins!)
Given our limited packing space, the shopping trip was more of an exercise in self control than the fabulous wardrobe revamp that it should’ve been. The next outlet center was pretty much exactly what I described our outlets at home to be. We found nothing to buy but we did have a good ogle at the Lindt outlet and their extensive variety of chocolates (another exercise in self control as we managed to leave without a thing!)
Okay enough retail porn, stay tuned for the really yummy stuff!

You need yesterday’s whey to make today’s cheese.

Histology students, are you still with us? Let's discuss adipocytes- ours have probably grown 30% since we have set foot in Italy (our hepatocytes are another story- is it bad to come home from vacation with ascites?)
Parma’s pride and joy lies in their cheese and ham, so not surprisingly one of the most raved about traveller experiences in Parma is a tour of the factories that produce these products. It seems that one of the few companies that offer such tours is Parmagolosa. Sign us up!
We met our guide bright and early on Monday morning. Expecting Italianglish, we were surprised to be greeted with an English accent! Our guide had just moved back from London where she had worked as a translator.

First stop Parmigiano Reggiano facility. I am going to have to try very hard to keep myself from babbling about this tour too much- I found it positively fascinating! If you want to know more, ask me when we get home and I’m sure I will gush on and on. For now I will keep it to an abbreviated ramble.
We pulled into the parking lot of what looked like a very old stone church. Men were working on the building doing what looked like renovations. Our guide showed us the Holstein cows whose milk is used for the cheese. There are very strict regulations governing all aspects of the cheese production (except sterility- more on that later). If these rules are not followed the cheese cannot carry that esteemed Parmigiano Reggiano designation. The cows get some fancy treatment- mostly pertaining to food and water. They are milked twice a day, the milk from the evening milking is skimmed for the cheese and the morning milk is added whole. Then we moved on to the cheese making area.

Expecting to watch the production through a window or having to don hairnets and gowns to enter, I was a little surprised when we strolled right into the middle of the process through a huge, wide open door. The environment was far more casual than I would have thought, in fact I don’t think the staff would’ve batted an eye if I dipped my finger into one of the large copper cauldrons to have a taste!

There were five of these cauldrons with two young, muscular, Italian men working over them- yes ladies and queens there are pictures- hold your horses!

There are several steps to making the cheese but in short form they go like this:
The milk (as described above) is put in the cauldrons and heated along some of yesterday’s whey.
The rennin (an enzyme from calves stomachs) is added which curdles the milk
The curdled milk settles to the bottom where it is left for 20 minutes
The muscular men lift the curds with a paddle (okay don’t get too excited- there’s no pictures I was busy watching!) and put it in cheese cloth
After a while it gets sliced in half and eventually put in molds
After resting in the molds for the afternoon (yes in the building that is wide open to the elements and bugs) it gets put in a salty brine for about a month.
The cheese then goes to age in a warehouse for three years
The lack of sterility doesn’t seem to be an issue as the Parmigiano consortium (cheese Nazi’s) rigidly test each of thousands of wheels of cheese in the warehouse with a hammer at their one year and three year birthday. (A little aside here: I think Adam has spent too long in Canada- he has an objection to the term “cheese Nazi”- and here I thought I had married a politically incorrect Australian) The substandard cheese has a number of destinies ranging from gratings for cheese blends to animal food depending on the severity of the defect.
This tour blew us away for a few reasons:
-Everything was being done by hand, the only machine we saw was one for flipping the aging cheese in the warehouse once a month- but even that was broken and a man was hand turning them all
-The warehouse- one of many in the region, housed thousands of wheels of cheese (who eats all this cheese?)
-All of this cheese is produced by small family owned dairies- the largest one making only 14 wheels/day. No large corporations here!
-The rules… tons of rules to achieve the Parmigianno Reggiano stamp of approval

After the cheese we moved onto the prosciutto di Parma facility…
The process is modelled after traditional techniques. Basically, the ham legs (all from male piggies because the females are too fat) go through a process of salt curing and massaging to remove most of the moisture. In between curing processes they are rotated between a number of climate controlled rooms that emulate the seasonal temperatures. The prosciutto is also subject to the rules of a consortium (ham Nazis).

Last but not least, we moved on to a winery where traditional balsamic vinegar is produced. Again, this is another very small production facility where everything is done by hand. The vinegar is produced from cooked grape must and is put into a large barrel. There are five successively smaller barrels that get topped up each year from the barrel of the next size up. The result is a very small barrel of thick, syrupy vinegar that has a minimum age of 25 years (the barrel is never completely emptied so the 25 year vinegar ends up mixing with vinegar of up to 80 years old). The oldest vinegar has a large sugar content that masks it’s acidity and it is classically used as a dessert item i.e. on vanilla gelato, strawberries, and cakes. At 85 Euro/ 250 ml, we were grateful to have the opportunity to try a teaspoonful!
Anyone hungry now? We certainly were by the time we finished our tour!

Taking it easy at Lake Como

This will be a brief post as Lago di Como was our place to just lay low and rest for a few days. We picked a great place to do this, a little village overlooking Como far removed from the throngs of tourists 750 metres below. The ride up the cable car or funiculare offered a preview of the spectacular view that we would admire over the next few days. Our hotel had a lot to offer: clean rooms, friendly staff, one of only three restaurants in Brunate, and a million dollar view all on a shoestring budget! Now if only the church right outside our window came with a snooze button for the 7 am bells!
We did manage to descend from our oasis of tranquility (we got itchy feet) to do some exploring. Adam was in gadget heaven when we stopped in to check out exhibits at the Volta museum. Volta was born in Como and invented the battery. Many of the exhibits reminded me of high school science experiments (lots of static electricity stuff). I bet he’s the guy that discovered you can stick a balloon to the wall after rubbing it on your head, funny they didn’t include that in the exhibit!
A quick trip up the lake on a hydrofoil boat brought us to Bellagio, the pretty little village with a big reputation. There were several other beautiful villages along the lake, each of which seem to announce their presence with a palate of pastel colours so as not to get lost in the enormous grey alps that rise up behind them. I almost wish we had jumped off at one of these other villages to explore as they looked just as beautiful and perhaps a little less touristy (if you can get less touristy on Lake Como). The scenery was so great that we decided to take the “slow” ferry back so we could snap some pictures.
That was about all for excitement in Como! Oh- here is something for a frame of reference- we met a man on the funiculare that moved to Brunate with his family and he rents an entire house for 400 Euro/month, that’s about $600 Can or Aus dollars.

The Ride Home

When I was in sixth grade I won a bicycle light as a raffle prize at the "family dance". I really didn’t know what it was until I brought it home and my Dad had a look at it. He actually had a good chuckle because even by his standards it was a little archaic. He showed me how the big, heavy generator was charged by the bicycle wheel and powered the tiny light that emitted little more than a birthday candle.
Fast forward 20 years... Riding home from Alba, dusk turning to dark, I was much more enthusiastic about this antiquated piece of equipment when I discovered it strapped to my rear wheel. Light engaged, resistance increased 10 fold (from the generator against the wheel), we pressed on towards home. As the darkness settled in completely, I realized that the skinny little highway we were riding along was completely void of street lights. Our path dissolved from a wide bike lane, to a sidewalk, wide shoulder, narrow shoulder, no shoulder! I concentrated on riding on the white line marking the edge of the road, and the last 4 inches of concrete. Incidentally, Italians have less regard for the lines on the road than they do for the lines in a colouring book; an observation I chose to ignore as I pedalled along, desperate for more pavement to appear on the other side of the line. At this point we had about 15km ahead of us-- it had to get better. Then all of a sudden.... FLASH, BOOM! Nature decided to light our way, or at least hasten our pace as the thunderstorm pulled up behind us. The only positive spin I could put on the sitution is that we were both sober.
We finally found shelter about 5 km from home. With a huge hill ahead of us and the storm still hot on our heels we contemplated locking up the bikes and calling a taxi. Choosing adventure over sanity we decided to race the storm home (yes we were still sober). The hill wasn’t nearly as bad as I had anticipated, considering we only had three gears with which to tackle it. With the hill behind us, we sped down our block just as the first raindrops started to fall. By the time we pulled under the cover of our hotel it had started pouring. Check out Adam in action on the "purple people eater” in the video.

Bra, an uplifting town

Our last four days were spent in the Piedmont region of Italy in a town called Bra. It was a very perky little town (okay that’s it for the bra humour I promise). The Piedmont region of Italy is known for it’s wine… do these names ring a bell? Barolo, Nebbiolo, Barberra, and sparkling Asti!
It is also recognized for it’s food and agriculture; hazelnuts, risotto, chocolate (it is the home of the Ferraro factory where nutella and ferraro rocher is made), and TRUFFLES. In fact the Piedmontese take their food so seriously that they established something called the Slow Food Movement- an organization that was formed to promote organic and local products and the idea of putting care and attention into food rather than hitting a drive through or throwing something in the microwave. Another testament to their dedication to gastronomy is the University of Gastronomic Sciences which opened in 2004. We visited the University and their “Banco del Vino” which is a massive cellar that was established as a library of Italian wines. Our tour guide is a member of the first graduating class of the university, we later found out he is half Canadian, half Italian and is moving back to Vancouver in October!
Fortunately, we ended up in Piedmont smack in the middle of truffle season. The nearby town of Alba hosts an annual festival that runs for a month in celebration of the truffle.
We rented bicycles as a fun way to get around the region and burn off a few of the extra calories that we anticipated. Our bicycles were clunkety-clunk, heavy bikes with no shortage of baskets to stash wine and baguettes in. Sure, they bore little resemblance to the lightening fast roadbikes that we saw all over the countryside, but we only had 15 km to cycle to Alba- no problem! Adam made me take the “purple people eater” somehow he found the lavender colour to be a little too feminine for his liking. The ride to Alba was uneventful… I was a little reluctant to be sharing the freeway with the psycho Italian drivers but they seemed to be much more cognisant of cyclists than the drivers at home.
We arrived in the very busy town of Alba and found our way into the truffle market. All the truffle hunters had set up stands and were inviting us to hold, smell, and hopefully buy their pricey treasures! At 2500- 3000 Euros per kilo I was just a little nervous when a vendor thrust a tennis ball sized truffle into my hand and insisted that Adam take a picture (fortunately my nervousness prevented me from acting on the urge to take a giant bite out of the truffle and run). We ended up sampling a whole variety of local products… cheeses, salamis, wines, chocolates. We then found a nearby bar that offered internet access (internet has become almost as much a commodity to us as water- we rely on it for everything from finding a place to sleep to keeping in touch with you guys and of course paying bills- so when we do find it we take full advantage!) We got a little carried away doing planning, emailing, facebooking, etc. and probably left the bar a little later than we should have. It was an interesting journey home to say the least, one that I think it is worthy of it’s very own post- stay tuned for that one.
We ended up coming back to Alba the next day as well, this time by train. I’m not sure if it was the parade with historic costumes or the donkey race that drew the crowds but it was packed! We arrived just to see the last half of the parade and then managed to get last minute tickets to the Palio. The Palio is the donkey race that is held each year at the festival. As legend has it the cheeky tradition originated from a rivalry between Alba and the nearby town of Asti. Check out this link for an explanation: http://www.dolcetours.com/re_article5.htm
Now the tradition is re-enacted each year at the festival. Each of the nearby villages gets assigned a donkey to race (more like push, coax, or pull) around the racetrack. Hopefully you’ll get a little laugh out of the video.... We are however experiencing technical difficulties with video upload at the moment.... We will let you know when we get a chance to correct the problem.

Stay tuned for more on the Purple People Eater too!!

Lisa's Lament

Despite photographic evidence to the contrary, the characters and events in the following verse are completely fictitious.

There once was a lass named Lisa
who travelled to Italy, but not to Pisa.

Excited about Rome
she forgot her undies at home.

Now stifle your snickers,
for Lisa found some knickers

and for merely a song
she acquired her thong

from a vending machine
and yes they were clean!

For the next two weeks
she must endure cold cheeks

as she travels to France
with her new underpants
to peruse the art and antiques

(Sorry Lisa, this picture was too priceless to pass up and the creation of the verse made for great train entertainment!)

Ahh Venice! You’ve all seen the pictures of quaint streets and canals with gondolas cruising quietly by. What more can we add?… everything you might imagine about Venice is true. What a unique and gorgeous city, with not a car, scooter or bicycle in sight. Everywhere you need to go, you can get to on foot or boat. Venice covers only 4 square kilometres but consists of about 120 islands, (just as many churches) and over 500 bridges. Without a straight street anywhere, walking through the labyrinth initially guaranteed getting lost, but eventually we realised that, in such a small place, all we really needed to do is keep walking until we stumbled across a major tourist area or sign, and then use it as our reference to find the way home.
Although our time here seemed too short, we certainly left with a lot of memories; some of the highlights include:
-Taking oh so many pictures of quaint bridges and canals.
-Drinking Chianti beside the canal at our apartment, and serenading American tourists as they gondola past. (A version of Mambo Italiano was especially appreciated by the gondolier)
-Walking to St Marks Square in the evening, being amazed at the basilica and then listening to a fantastic band play at a café in the square, (it was worth paying $10 per drink).
-Spending a euro for a bag of corn and getting swarmed by birds to re-live my favourite Hitchcock scene.
-Walking, walking, and yet more walking to soak up the atmosphere.
-And of course, paying an outrageous amount for a gondola ride, and loving every minute of it (thankfully no serenade).
This is a place we need to come back to!
If you want to see more photos click here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=14084&l=b9f3f&id=700132588
Here are some videos of one of our "wine soaked" evenings.

Some photo links

Hi Everyone,
We finally got some pictures up on facebook. Here is a link to Croatia: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=10703&l=87aac&id=700132588
and a few of Florence and Tuscany:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=13962&l=c47f7&id=700132588

We should have some stories from Venice up here for you very soon... stay tuned!

A Taste of Tuscany

After about a week we were ready to escape the hustle and bustle of Florence. We jumped in a rental car and headed south to the Chianti region of Tuscany. Enroute, we couldn’t resist introducing Lisa to the wine vending machines in Greve so we left her to get better acquainted with the vast selection “on tap” while we made some last minute accommodation arrangements for that night. This operation proved to be much more difficult than expected, and after calling several places we finally found a vacancy and booked it sight unseen. At least it would be better than sleeping in the rental car….. right? More on that later!
We stopped off at a few wineries to sample their wares and ended up with so much more! The first winery was part of a castle on a hill with a magnificent view of the surrounding hills and valleys. The hosts, though not expecting us, were accommodating and friendly! We took advantage of the great location and had a picnic lunch while soaking in the view and more wine.
We were also warmly welcomed at our second winery and were even given an impromptu tour of the facility and cellar by our enthusiastic hostess. With a rapidly expanding collection of wine in the trunk, we figured we better head towards our home for the night. Finding our street was easy enough, we turned off the highway and wound deeper into the hills. Finally there it was, our home for the night; the only place in Tuscany with vacancy….
HA! You thought it was going to be another hotel horror story didn’t you? So did we, but our last minute find was a treasure! In fact before we realized this was our inn we pulled off the road to take photos of it because it looked so quaint! The apartment was just as charming on the inside as it was on the outside. The inn also is a working winery! Lisa and I were as giddy as two schoolgirls snapping pictures and exploring the grounds! The silence in the evening was such a contrast to the constant buzz that we had grown accustomed to in Florence.
Our day turned out so great that it probably makes for a pretty boring read for you: no mishaps, no arguments, no cockroach motels… just a fabulous day in Tuscany!

The next morning we sadly left our little inn and headed for some more wineries. There is not a bad wine to be had in this region.
Okay, so Vancouver has arcane liquor laws, and sure Australia has drive in liquor where you can pick up a bottle or 2, but in Tuscany people drive up to the winery, open the trunk, and fill up any sized container they wish with wine at $1.50 per litre. One car pulled away barely clearing the ground hauling 120 litres of wine in the trunk (interesting it is almost cheaper than fuel for the car)! Our guide at this winery assured us that most of the customers that were filtering through were buying the bulk “table wine” for their own households. Italians take their drinking seriously, where else do people drink liqueur for breakfast and fill casks (or their husbands) with wine from a hose?
Finding accommodation for our second night in Tuscany was no easier than the previous, and we took the last apartment in the town of Radda. While we had a nice little courtyard with a great view, our apartment resembled a hobbit basement suite. Oh well, a little Chianti Classico, fabulous company, and a great view and it’s as good as a five star hotel!