Buongiorno famiglia e gli amici
We have divided our Italian experience into 2 dispatches. This 1st one covers Muggia, Venice and the ‘next door’ country of Slovenia (part of the EU) plus a failed attempt to invade the country of Croatia.
Leaving Pam in Austria to spend more time with her friend Uli, Maggie and I headed southeast toward our next accommodation, Muggia, on the NE corner of the Adriatic Sea. We passed seamlessly into Italy 30 minutes after leaving Telfes, Austria, the only marker of this passage being a barely noticeable roadside sign, a reflection of most of the Eurozone’s elimination of official border stations (alas, no passport stamps by EU country, only the initial Schengen Agreement stamp). Our vignette sticker for Austria meant nothing here, as we paid at toll booths along the way. After our 1st 3 hour leg on A22, having traveled 147 miles, and stopping at Verona, we computed our toll cost at 14 cents per mile. Our milestones along the way were the Brenner Pass and a myriad of very long tunnels taking us through the Alps, a slew of castles high on the hillsides with terraced farming below, old picturesque wooden structures in disrepair, not the pristineness found in Austria.
Our focus in Verona was to track down the Casa di Giuletta at Via Cappello #23 in the historical district. Parking was tough this Sunday, so we ended up a mile away on a questionably safe side street. We found our Romeo & Juliet house nestled in the cobblestoned narrow streets of Old Town as the skies opened up and we moved on to purchase an umbrella nearby from a convenient purveyor, surrounded by other desperate umbrella seekers. We slogged to where we hopefully would find our car still parked and unscathed. Getting on the A4 was a nightmare, wipers at full speed, unable to see, deep standing water pooling at the onramp, cars with their emergency lights flashing…a scene we might have been comfortable with in Seattle. We were smart enough to pull over out of sheer Tourist-Driving-In-Italy-Terror. We eventually creeped back out in the slow lane, driving 35 mph for 30 minutes before the rains dissipated, allowing us to turn down the wiper speed and move back into the fast lane, only to experience the stories one hears about the autobahn, cars racing up behind you, two feet from your rear bumper, both of you going 130 kmph (80 mph), you don’t know it until you happen to glance in the rear view mirror, almost have a heart attack and quickly move to the right! How long had he been behind me like that? Thereafter, my rear view mirror got a lot more attention!
Our Muggia location sat on a small marina, looking across the Adriatic Sea toward Trieste. We found a walkway nearby that led us to the sailboats and yachts rocking easily in these pristine waters and flanked by small restaurants, absorbing the Italian culture. Our first full day’s order of business was to take the Delfino Verde vessel across to Trieste, a 30 minute ride, viewing the industrial side of this port city with its cranes, cargo ships, containers, trucks coming and going. Our goal was to walk along the shoreline to Castello di Miramare, which was 5 miles away as the crow flies. However, the walk turned into more, a wandering along the seaside promenade consisting of 2-inch square mosaic tiles in radiating patterns with pine trees lined down the middle of this artistic pathway. We came across bathers (some nude, others in their speedos) waiting for the quelling of the current windy and high surf conditions. After 1.5 hours we arrived below the castle with tourists pouring out of their buses. We toured the 2 floors & 20-something odd rooms over a period of 45 minutes. The majestic appearance of this dwelling paled in comparison to the artwork inside and the history of the builders, Austrian Archduke Ferdinand Maximillian and his wife Charlotte who later became Emperor Maximillian I (of Mexico) and Empress Carlota, their history one of fairy tales. The rooms were rife with documentation of key characters and historic events of the 19th century, a virtual vortex of pomp and circumstance, nation conquering, world travels and treasures. Alas, poor Maximillian was murdered in Mexico at age 35, in 1867. Didn’t have a whole lot of time to enjoy this epic monument to his life!
We took the bus back to the harbor on what turned out to be a free ride. There was no way to pay on the bus. It turned out that we should have purchased a ticket at a tobacco shop or a bar first, so we exited the bus and never looked back. Upon returning to Muggia, our quaint, sleepy seaside community of 11,000, we espied a sign referencing ‘Old Castello’ and decided to walk the stairs upwards to view what turned out to be a no-name venerable castle-like structure that had retained the stone exterior in its deteriorating state, now housing newer dwellings in its interior. This is a testimony to the value placed on the rich history of Muggia that dates back to 800 BCE, sharing history with Slovenia, whose borders are minutes away from Muggia.
Traveling next door to Slovenia, we visited the Park Skocjanske Jame, a 3-4 million year old cave system and UNESCO site since 1986. Luckily, we were talking to the desk attendant before we left, making us aware of the need for a vinjeta for Slovenia tolls. We purchased one at the local bus station, arriving in time for the 10 a.m. trek through this vast system of caves, passages, sinkholes, and the Reka River, whose source is at Sneznik Peak, 32 miles away. During severe rainy periods, this river whose surface was 160 feet below us and another almost 600 feet below that, can rise as much as 165 feet, submerging the bridge we were on. Twigs and other debris were a few feet above our heads from a November, 2014 event! Every 50 years it can rise twice as much, filling the largest chamber in this system. We did see a marker to that event on 2/9/1965. I then realized that was 50 years ago but, luckily for us, it was not the rainy season. The rustic steps carved by the first explorers in 1908 into the karst walls, were pointed out to us, along with the flimsy rope ‘bridges’ making us ponder the dangers of what went before us to create the easy system in place today, the wide etched concrete paths to mitigate slippage, the steel grated bridges.
We moved on to Ljubljana, the old, enchanting Eastern European capital of Slovenia. We stumbled on a ceremonial occasion with the President of the Swiss Confederation and her husband in front of the Academia Philarmonicorum, the Ljubljana Castle in the background on the hilltop flying the Slovenian national flag, secret service type sun-glassed operatives monitoring the crowd. We dined along the Ljubljanica River, first crossing the Tromostovje (Triple Bridge, circa 1842), now sitting with bush tit-like birds atop the concrete railing between us and the river, providing them with bits of bread, a pigeon later plopping down on our table to dine on our leftovers. Returning to our car we came across a traditionally attired musician, with Aladdin-like curled shoes, playing an ancient looking single-stringed instrument, chanting, a very original presentation, worthy of a token of our appreciation.
We set out another day to visit Croatia, hitting a snag when we saw a border station with the word ‘passports’ on the reader board. They were in our hotel safe. We handed the official the only thing I had, a Washington State DL, to which he shouted “Are you kidding me??!! What do you expect me to do with this???” We had to turn around even after showing them our International Driver’s Licenses and abandon our attempt to get to Rovinj, a Croatian seaside resort. Apparently Croatia is EU but does not recognize the Schengen Agreement, so we went to Plan B, Pirano, a Slovenian seaside town, also on the coast of the Adriatic Sea. This idyllic spot was replete with a marina of small watercraft, a concrete boardwalk along the sea border filled with sun bathers, ladders accessing the Adriatic, youngsters diving in the waters. I could not resist the pull of swimming in the Adriatic and soon joined them. We later had a sunset dinner of grilled calamari, fried sheep cheese, tomato & red onions with olive oil drizzled on them, with the Croatia shoreline opposite us, probably looking directly at Rovinj!
Prior to arriving at Venice, we took in the Risiera di San Sabba in nearby Trieste, an old rice husking factory that was converted to a Nazi prison camp and killing field, a follow-on to our Dachau experience. Foregoing the details of what went on at this facility, we did see the cells which were 5’ wide, 8’ deep, with a double bunk, holding up to 6 ‘prisoners’ in each microcell and looked at documents from inmate diaries that brought us to tears. It was frightening to read all about the racism and hatred, who the targets were and to equate that to what is going on today in our world. We reached Venice uneventfully and experienced a unique phenomenon, being guided to our nearby accommodation through San Marco square which was experiencing a seasonal event, ‘Acqua Alta’ (high water), where we had to haul ourselves and our bags over 2 foot high raised wooden platforms to ford the rising waters. More work ahead…our accommodation had 75 stairs and 3 locked doors to our 4th floor unit, which at least had a terrace overlooking red-tiled roofs, church spires, cupolas and a panoramic view.
During our 4 night stay we used our 3 day vaporetto passes for the 200+ passenger water buses to visit the islands of Murano (Venetian glass products), Burano (lace and beautiful, elaborate Mardi Gras-type masks, and their own leaning tower), Cimitero (covering the entire island), where we visited the remains of luminaries like Ezra Pound, Igor Stravinsky, Sergei Diaghilev, replete with ballet slippers in stone, and Joseph Brodsky. On each of these islands the small canals were lined with boats parked like cars, along with multi-colored stucco homes in brilliant reds, blues, yellows, purples, pinks and browns.
We joined the throngs to tour the Basilica di San Marco, just around the corner from our apartment, with guided groups following their leaders, wearing ear buds, linked to their leaders’ microphones, which cut down on the competing guide repertoires! We went up to the balcony level where the original Triumphal Quadriga (4 horses) are housed, the ‘fake’ ones outside now being seen from the back side, looking straight at their private parts. The originals are over 2000 years old, made of copper and gilded gold, the sculptor of unknown origin. Our guide had timed this balcony visit to coincide with the hour change of the next door Torre Dell’ Orologio and the two bronze figures which have struck the hours on the 15th century bell for over 500 years. The most amazing part of the Basilica was the 40,000 square feet of ¼” tiles, and the description of the tedious process of tile application to the walls and dome ceiling.
The best part of San Marco was our wandering through the gothic style Palazzo Ducale (Doge’s Palace), not for its ostentatiousness, except the 9’x4.5’ 1745 Tiepolo oil painting (Venezia riceve da Nettuno I doni del mare), but the display of weaponry (e.g., crossbows, poleaxes, armor, not even mentioning the chastity belt!) and the prison cells in the bowels of this edifice, the Ponte di Sospiri (Bridge of Sighs), where prisoners, being transported for their hearings, their sighs being heard on that walk through the passageway, allegedly. Our ‘Last Supper’ in Venice was around the corner at Ristorante de Toto’, in their open air courtyard, a perfect ‘Arrivederci’ to this beautiful city and the adventures off the Adriatic Sea.
Your trusted travelers, Stan & Maggie