Florentines and gelato spoons

Florentines and Gelato Spoons

After some outdoorsy fun on the cinque terre trail, it was time to head back into the city for some culture- And what better way to check mark that box than in the artistic town of Florence. The beginning of my time there was less than ideal though....

I was feeling a bit off and slightly nauseous the morning I left la spezia, and figured it was due to spending too much time in the sun the previous day and not drinking enough water. I took a couple of Tylenol and was sure the 3 hour train hop would do me good. I  started feeling progressively worse, getting intense cramping in my lower abdomen. I took some Advil and contributed it to motion sickness. I would totally feel better once I got off the trains and to my hostel. Well I got to the hostel and tried to take a nap, but the pain in my stomach made it impossible. It almost felt like someone was jabbing a hot spear through my right upper back and sending diagonally through my torso out my right thigh. I was getting quite concerned as the pain was getting worse and the drugs weren't helping. I finally went down to the front desk and asked the clerk where the nearest doctors office was. She was concerned, said I looked awful and would get a taxi to take me to the tourist clinic on the north side of Florence. I agreed but was told it would take about 45 min to arrive. During this time an English guy had come up to the counter to talk to the clerk and we ended up chatting a bit. I wasn't my fully charming self due to the agony but we got along alright and i went up to my room to wait. I ended up feeling a bit better before the taxi came and decided to check out a bit of Florence. Just as I was about to leave I bumped into the English guy again. Turns out this was his second time in Florence and he was meeting friends later, but he offered to show me around the city a bit. It was really nice to have some company as I hadn't really hung out with other travellers since before I went to vineyard. We hung out off and on over the next couple of days and we even went on a grand adventure to find the foreign medical clinic when the pain came back the next day. Turns out: kidney stone! I got some painkillers and a recommendation to drink 3L+ of water a day to flush it out. I felt way better though. 

My favourite part of my time in Firenze was when I saw the duomo all lit up.  It had rained so everything was really bright and reflective. It was amazing and beautiful and the kind of scene you only see in the movies. My camera did not do it justice.

I also happened to arrive in Florence in time for the Firenze gelato festival. It's when Master gelato makers from all over the world do a tasting showcase. 10€ got you 5 flavour tastings and a gelato cocktail. My lactose intolerance said no but EVERYTHING ELSE inside of me said yes. Oh my god it was amazing. I had a mojito made from mint gelato, one with pears and red wine, one with salted dark chocolate with candied orange pieces, a coffee one with lime and lemon, one made from black rice and one with tiny profiteroles drizzled with hazelnuts caramel and hard chocolate. I was certainly gelato'd out by the end but it was totally worth it. Every. Bite.

Things I have learned:

- kidney stones are freaking agony. Don't get them.

- the tourist medical clinic is lovely, but is now in a different place than the guide books say.

- the statue of David is bigger than I  thought it would be.

- Botticelli's Venus is okay, but not as exciting as everyone makes it out to be.

- it is ALWAYS worth the extra 4€ to buy a reserved time ticket to the big museums. Standing in line is for suckers.

- a true Bellini is prosecco mixed with fresh peach juice. A Rossini is the same but with strawberry purée.

-  I am still lactose intolerant. Very much so. 

A good Milan is hard to find, La Spezia-Ly on the beach.

It was back to the roaming life for me after my week at the farm. First it was back to Lyon for a night (thanks Yacine) and then 6 hours on a train chugging through the Alps, past Torino and into Milan. Milan wasn't originally in my plans, but I couldn't train directly or overnight to La Spezia in one day, so I figured "why not?!"

  I had also left my sunglasses at the farm, so my goal of the day was to find a new pair. Being the fashion capital of the world, I knew exactly where I would go to find them:

H&M.

...What? I'm on a budget, people.

It was, however, a three story H&M and I did pick up a sweet summery outfit or two. Swedish-Italian glamour ACHIEVED. Complete with sunglasses.

The main shopping district is also right by the duomo and I have to say its pretty impressive. It's been by far the most modern feeling cathedral I've seen. There is a rear rose window that has almost an art nouveau feel about it, with a swirling rosette pattern instead of the usual symmetrical one. Prettyful!

The next day it was off to La Spezia, a small city near the Western Italian coast. It wasn't necessarily the city I went to see, but the small villages near it: the famous Cinque Terre. These are 5 (cinque) villages that used to be really remote from the rest of Italy and have kept a very old world sea-side charm about them. They are obviously now overrun with tourists, but the houses built into the steep cliff sides still take your breath away. The villages are also close enough together that you can hike through all of them in about 6 hours, which is what I had intended to do. I got my sunscreen on, got some dried fruit, put on my merino wool socks and i was READY. And then I got there. And the only chunk of path open to hike was between the first 2 villages. 

...*sigh*.

I didn't want to waste the day completely, so I did the hike between village 1 (monterosso) and 2 (velnuzza). When I got to Venuzza about 90 min later, I camped out on a rock in the bay and cooled myself in the azure blue ocean. There was also another, rockier beach that you could only access through a cave in the town where the waves came in MUCH stronger. I had already spent quite a bit of time in the sun, so I was good for the day, but it was amazing to hear the sound of the waves pulling along the rocks. It reminded me of one of those fireworks that fizzles after the light has disappeared. :)

 There was also a really neat mixture of natural stone and terra cotta on the beach. The area had a flood recently that caused many of the houses perched on the rock face to collapses into the ocean. Pieces of the clay roof tiles, as well as chunks of mosaic walls had all been eroded by the tides and now peeked through the natural dark stone, as well as added their own timbre to the previous ocean soundtrack.

 I'm beginning to really love being by the ocean. I love the diversity it has, and how one section of coast can have completely different waves, depending on what's around it or what the current brings. But I also love the rhythm. The consistent pulse that beats through each ebb and flow, and brings life to all around it. But perhaps more importantly, it brings change.

Things I have learned:

-that maybe I should be more concerned about ALL the surfaces in my hostels, and not just the beds. The place I stayed in Milan had a sign in the benched seating area that said "no gang bangs."  Does that mean they've had a problem with gangbangs before, or is this just a preventative measure? And does that mean couples and threesomes are okay?

-I will have to go back to France as I never did get to see the gorges in Ardeche. Le sad.

-while McDonald's has free Internet in Italy, you have to have an Italian phone number to use it. Also, ALL free Wifi access needs a password from the salesclerk, and you can only get it if you buy something. It sucks.

- Italians LOVE their ray bans. And not just the iconic hipster shaped ones - all Ray Bans. 

-Italian croissants (cornetto) are different from French in that they are sweetly glazed like a donut. #themoreyouknow

-I think I've been to too many museums, as I saw a pile of wire and rusted debris on the beach and naturally assumed it was an installation by a local artist.

- I LOVE HIKING. This is thing I need to do more of. Banff shall be my bitch this summer I think (...in all the free time I have between fringe rehearsals...)

Beaujolais me down in a bed of roses

Beaujolais me down on bed of roses

After my adventures in cosmopolitan  Lyon, it was time for a change of pace. I present to you with WWOOF-ing** at Les Dessous du Cep or "the bottom of the vine", the organic vinyard I volunteered at for a week. I know I usually put the "things I have learned" at the end, but i feel I need to get a couple of these out from the get-go:

- always read your train ticket. Even though I bought it at one station, the ticket started at a different one. And of course I realized this when I was at the wrong station and had 10 minutes to get to the right one. Needless to say I missed my train

- always check the ENTIRE departures screen for your train and platform. There may be more than one leaving from the same platform in a 20 minute period. Needless to say, I got on the wrong train. I gladly realized this before I left Lyon and made arrangements for the next one. 

- Skype does not work for numbers you are not contacts with and foreign numbers. I discovered this while trying to call Denny and Jeanne to let them know I had missed my train twice and would need a pickup at a later time. Also, pay phones are no help AT ALL.

- Romaneche-thorin is a lovely vinyard town. Especially the train station. I got a good look at it for about 45 min before I got picked up.

Okay, now that we have THAT out of the way, the week at the vinyard was amazing. Jeanne ( a french artist raised significantly in English speaking countries) and her spouse Denny (an Italian dancer and musician) together have a 400-hectare organic vinyard consisting of 2 Plots: one behind the house and another a short distance away. Of these grapes they make 2 red wines each fall which they rename every year. 2011's season was "Cleopatra", which is made from grapes from the far section of the vinyard, and "ErotiKa" made from a blend of the two plots.  Both are delicious, with ErotiKa being softer and a little fruitier. 

They also run a small, reservation-only organic restaurant out of their home, and I was grateful to get a daily sampling of their French-Italian fusion cuisine. (Anything I owed that was fitted however, not so much)

(ALL THE BREAD AND WINE AND COFFEE)

We didn't work in the actual vinyard so much because spring was late and the vines were juuuuust starting to bud. At that point they are so delicate the slightest brush can cause the buds to fall off, so the more we left the vines alone the better. We did however clear out the garden and help tidy the yard, preparing it for a season of guests.

On the day before I left, Denny also gave us a tasting of last fall's wine in the making, called "ISIS". He told us often times large wineries will taste the wine over the course of the fermentation and make changes to shape the taste and feel. He prefers to think of the wine as a baby still in the womb, and tasting the wine is like looking at a 5 month ultrasound-- it looks like a baby and has all the parts of a baby, but still needs time to fill out and develop, so making changes is pointless because its not done growing. And babies are exactly what each cask are to him. You can tell by the passion and care he puts into each one.

It really makes me want to come back to Europe and exclusively wwoof ** my way across the continent, tasting local cuisine and learning what people are doing around the world to put a dent in the industrial food crisis. I also want to see what wwoof-ing opportunities there are in Canada. Might be nice to go away to kelowna and pick fruit or pierce trees in Quebec for syrup. Road trip anyone?

**Note: okay, WWOOF! The World Wide Opportunities of Organic Farming. Basically it's a volunteer work-stay program. You get paired with an organic farm and work there for a week or two in exchange for food and board.  I have included the link below, as well as the link to Les Dessous Du Cep. There is way more about my stay there that I could write about, but you'll just have to take me out for wine for those details...

WWOOF: www.wwoofinternational.org

Www.wwoof.ca

Denny and Jeanne's: www.lesdessousducep.fr

Dijon isn't just a mustard and I ain't Lyon

Dijon was a chance for me to go waaaay out of my comfort zone and try couch surfing for the first time. And to great success! Seb was a lovely host. Finished his term in the French Air Force, he now builds and designs model planes. He took me to touch the owl on the side of the cathedral (which has been touched so many times he doesn't have a face. Poor faceless owl.) And gave me a walking your of the city he grew up in. It really is quite pretty. Like all the old parts of Paris but with more space and less tourists. He also introduced me to some of the Beaujolais wines and we made tagine in his swanky paella cooker. He even gave me a small tin of herb du Provence to take with me on my travels :) 

And then since I had so much experience under my belt from surfing in Dijon, I did it again in Lyon! This time with Yacine, a middle school maintenance man in his 30's and his 7 year old son Tijany.  While Tijany spoke little English, it was fun to play with him, and I even got to write my name in his cardboard bedroom castle. I know, gangster.

Lyon really is a beautiful city. It is definately trying to sell itself as the cosmopolitan alternative to Paris. More modern, but still embracing the picturesque Rhone-Alps around it and the history that goes along with them. It also happens to be the gastronomical capital of the world. So guess where I spent most of my time? That's right, MCDONALD'S. *sigh*  see, McDonald's (or McDou to the French) has free Internet. So I an order a small fry and Skype my friends and family without paying for meal or standing on one foot with a hanger in my hand as per most hostels. That, and I was too embarrassed over the quality of French to sit in a restaurant, and McDou has self serve kiosks in English. Yeah. Yeeeaaaahh.

I also marked my 26th birthday in Lyon. It was a simple affair. I went to the textile museum, meandered the shopping district. Yacine taught me how to make crepes for dinner and we decorated them In both savoury and sweet forms. Did I have a great epiphany? No. But I did reflect on how far I'd come and where I was going next. At least where I hoped I was going.

The next day I checked out the fourviere cathedral that over looked the city and the roman theatre ruins. I spent a good hour just sitting and writing in the audience. The weather was gorgeous and it just felt to peaceful I'd hate to ruin it by spending it inside. If it wasn't for the anti-gay marriage rally happening in the main square that i could hear it would have been perfect.

I spent the latter part of the afternoon at the gadagne museum checking out the collection of world puppets and marionettes and indulged in some ardechian pear sorbet before buying a ticket to see ironman 3 with French subtitles. Yep. Cultural rockstar right here.

The last day I spent in Lyon I rented a bike and roamed the tete d'or park. A giant urban park with a botanical garden, lake and zoo, it was a welcome break from all the cityscapes and tourist shops. I also got my first signs of a tan. Take that Canada.

Things I have learned:

- 30 year old single men who offer you their couch are not all serial killers or rapists!

- ironman 3 was disappointing. For multiple reasons. Buy me a drink when I get back and I'll tell you why

- French people eat cookies for breakfast. BREAKFAST. 

- teaching me how to make crepes was a dangerous thing. I will probably now make them/ eat them all the time

-you can get an electric pan for cooking just paella. I want it.

Gay paris!

Paris!

Hey kids sorry about the hiatus! Internet has been dodgy in Italy and I've been bit busy with other things. But I'm back now! And for your patience you will get not one, not two, but 4 updates! Each in their own loving update-y package. In my head the packages are made of those little organza gift bags that bubbles come in at weddings.

So paris! The city of lights! And love! And pastry! Finding my hostel was a bit of an adventure, but it did give me a chance to have a mini walking tour of montmarte (it's the old boho neighborhood of Paris. Think Amelie and the Moulin Rouge). While the days were beautiful, it ended up raining every evening, so it kind of put a damper (ha ha) on exploring the city of lights with any of the lights on. And I happened to show up just in time for may 1st, which is French Labour Day. Which means most museums, restaurants and shops would not be open. Hu-zaaaah...

I decided I would remedy this by doing one of those pay-what-you-can walking tours, so I could fit in as many major sights in the couple of days I had. I was actually super impressed. The tour guide gave us not only a history of  Paris, but also gave us cultural tips about not having French people hate us and how to order a proper baguette. Win-win! There were 2 other Canadian girls on the tour too, so after it was over we went across the seine towards the musee d'orsay and grabbed some quiche together. As the musee d'orsay line up was RIDICULOUSLY long post-quiche-ing, the 2 girls  went over to the petite palais art museum while I took a stroll along champ d'elyss. i ended up finding the comedia francais theatre and paying my respects to Moliere. 

At breakfast the next morning, I met 2 sisters from Australia, and we decided to hit sacre coeur together, as we figured it would be one of the few monuments open. It is also the highest point in Paris and boasts an amazing view. Which it had. ( you win this round, church)

The rest of the day was spent roaming the marais, Paris' gay and Jewish quarter. It's fairly commercialized now, but had a nice blend of recognizable stores and little independent ones. I found an AMAZING red trench coat for 20€ in a thrift shop and had probably the most delicious dessert of my travels.**  It was a poppyseed apple strudel from a Jewish Bakery in the Marais. It was a piece as large as a rubicks cube with a thick layer of poppyseed paste and a thiiick layer of an apple filling that was somehow more puréed than a pie filling but not so puréed it was apple sauce. And the pastry between each layer was a little buttery and somewhat flaky but not crumbly and none of the dessert was too sweet and just-- yay.

** note: as I am writing this entry a couple of weeks later while in Italy, I still hold true to that statement. It's still been the best dessert I've had.

I have to say that Paris is the only place where I wished I had had more time. There were lots of other things I had wanted to see, but I had already made arrangements to stay in Dijon. I can understand why people fall in love with it though. There is just something about it that excites you and romances you so that you never want to go anywhere else. 

Things I have learned:

- you can order 2 types of baguette in a Boulangerie: regular or traditional. The traditional one is made with better ingredients and more care. Worth the extra 10 cents.

- Paris is not as dirty as everyone told me it would be. Yes , the subway stations all smell like pee, but that's true for any city.

- Ia vie en rose WILL be stuck in your head the entire time you're there. Especially when you're in the more recognizable areas.

- French grocery stores have more than one cookie/chocolate aisle. Again, how Europeans do not have diabetes astounds me.

Amster-DAMN and the land of (mannequin) Pis.

Sorry for the delay in updates kids. My most recent hostel has SUPER crappy Internet and even checking my Facebook has been a challenge.

So Amsterdam! Land of decriminalized marijuana and hookers! In all reality I was kind of disappointed in it. I thought it would be prettier once you got away from the main tourist hub, but not so much. Just...confusing. The morning my train came in I met another Canadian at the hostel who was also heading my way, so we decided to adventure together. It was nice having company to navigate the rail system for the first time. Once we got to Amsterdam proper, we exchanged info so we could meet up for drinks or something before we went out seperate ways again. From that point on it was myself and the ever lovely Sophia, who had just come in from Heidlburg. We caught our shuttle to our hostel which was about 30 minutes outside of Amsterdam in a beach town called Noordwijk. Beautiful little place in behind all the tulip fields and across the street from the North Sea.

Sophia and I's original plan was to go to the Keukenhof, the worlds largest spring flower garden. What ended up happening is we rented bikes and rode 35km in a marked loop behind the tulip fields, through a few beach towns, up through a national park of desolate shrubs and dunes and ending at the beach by our hostel. While EXHAUSTING, it was nice to get out of the city and explore a bit. All of the flowers were in full bloom, with the hyacinth fields aggressively perfuming the air almost as strongly as the rows of colour along the ground.

Yes, I did dip my toes in the North Sea. And yes, it was BLOODY FREEZING. But kind of nice after biking for 8 hours. Kind of wish I had stuck my butt in instead.
 Sophia and I DEVOURED the Appel pannekoeken (a thin crepe like pancake with apple slices cooked in drizzled with syrup and icing suger) we ordered at a beach side stand. I think we scared te nice Bangeladeshi lady :/

And then it was Brussels!

Where I had the most delicious fish and chips of my life. Period.

It's this little place called Bia Mara were fish and chips is all they do.  But not just English bitter ale and haddock. No. I had curried salmon with a spicy tarragon tarter sauce with balsemic and white truffle tossed chips. For 10 euro. (For you playing along at home, that's pretty cheap for restaurant food). I would have gone there everyday if I could and I wasn't trying to diversify my palette.

The third night I was there I ended up going to a bar called delirium with 4 American guys (California, Washington, North Carolina and New York), a Brit from Gurnsey and 2 girls from Calgary. It was a pretty wild and crazy time. We made fun of each others accents and the Americans inability to hold their liquor. There were also shots of absinthe involved. La vie boheme!

Thanks god I was just riding a train to Paris the next day because I'll admit I was a little worse for wear. But it's nights like that that make me enjoy traveling alone and staying at hostels. You will ALWAYS end up meeting someone if you just step that liiiittle bit out of your comfort zone and say hi to a complete stranger.

Things I've learned:
- Amsterdam in over-rated if you are not a pot head
- I need to learn the name of that marzipan filled cookie I kept eating. Freaking delish.
- I also need to  find out where to get the curry ketchup the Dutch put on things. Way tastier than normal ketchup and lighter than mayonnaise
- not all hostels keep cooking basics (like salt, pepper and oil) in the kitchen. This is inconvenient.
- I WANT to say I'm all chocolated out, but I'm totally not. If anything I crave it more. All the time.
- beer however is another story. I think I'm ready to switch to wine now.