‘CANTIAMO' - LET’S SING- IN ITALY!! OUR ROAD TO FLORENCE (2)

Thirty one intrepid travellers: Count Off. 

Bentornato amici!  Welcome back friends! I do believe I, No. 25, left you last time about to number off as we were want to do upon boarding our big bus bound for the beautiful world-heritage town of Assisi having enjoyed the European gorgeousness of Cadennabia on Lake Como then Cattolica, Rimini and St Leo, the venues chosen for the celebration of Choral singing at the Queen of the Adriatic Music Festival.  In the cosiness of our comfortable bus we well may have felt like the chosen few as we travelled the 45 kilometres from Cattolica to Assisi, part of a journey Pilgrims over the centuries had traversed on foot or horseback as they retraced the steps of Saint Francis, nourished by a spirituality and by the charming landscapes en route that spoke of his love for the small things and which brought joy to a simple heart.

Santa Maria degli Angeli in the commune of Assisi 

With just a one-night stay in Assisi and a weather forecast of rain and unseasonable temperatures (word had it that we were experiencing the coldest Spring in 60 years) we were certainly not about to let a few threatening skies dampen our enjoyment of this tiny medieval mecca.  Within the weather protection of our seemingly waterproof ‘Roger Jackets’ we were captivated by the stories of the life of Francis, initially as we wandered the streets of Santa Maria degli Angeli or St Mary of the Angels, the delightful town situated 4 kilometres from Assisi where St Francis built his chapel over which a magnificent protective Basilica was created and where the gentle Francis died in 1226. It was then up Mt Subasi to Assisi, to the 3000 year old maze of cobblestone pathways, ancient stone houses, flower pots spilling with geraniums and cyclamen, quaint shops of local crafts, icons and to the breathtaking edifice, St Francis Basilica Inferior, where that evening, we were privileged to sing the 5.00pm Holy Mass.

To perform in this Italian Masterpiece of Romanesque and Gothic art was to have the gaze of the good Lord upon us and our voices soared and spiralled to the appreciation of a large congregation.  Margaret, No 20, ever-unruffled, appeared to be devoured by the enormity of the pipe organ at which she was poised but certainly rose to the task with her accompaniments adding another level of loveliness to our singing that evening.

The View from Assisi to the valley 

Following our performance,  the threatening skies turned to harsh rain and frigid wind gusts and  many a courageous chorister, with a thirst for exploring,  went bravely into that bitter night while others with a different thirst,  gathered in the hotel dining room content to fall into the medicinal arms of prosecco and potato chips.

Italian Lesson No. 3:  Pedestrian Crossings are merely a suggestion of a safe place to cross roads.

On Day 9, though still cold, glimpses of sunshine greeted the group as we bid addio to Assisi and were back on the bus headed for Mestre with a visit to Padua along the way.  From the warmth of our big panorama bus we were treated to some jaw-dropping scenery of the snow- capped Italian Alps, imposing tunnels carved through mountains, sleepy villages, quaint farmhouse fixer-uppers, apple orchards, rice fields and along the way it was mandatory for a bus load of ‘Eskimos’ from Queensland to engage in a snow ball fight at the first sight of a snowbank. 

Queenslanders playing in the Snow

Next stop, Padua.  With our No. 1 so far having misplaced her passport and pashmina, it seemed fortuitous that this ancient city, famed for its fine basilica dedicated to St Anthony, the patron Saint of Lost Things, be our next stop.  It is also home to Italy’s second oldest University founded in 1222 and Italy’s largest piazza, its surrounding murky canals possibly still containing a sprinkling of mossy maritime relics from the 11^th century, but altogether, a hedonistic hot spot to experience and explore. Many strolled among the historic buildings of the University or found photo opportunities around the old town.  Some found Padua’s famous Café Pedrocchi, the perfect place to sip hot drinks and savour the delicacies and gentility of this iconic Italian 18^th century ‘coffee shop’.   However, more Italian adventures awaited and buoyed by the delights of this day, it was back on the bus for the comparatively short trip to our next three-night stay in Mestre, our gateway to Venice.

Prato della Valle in Padua  

Italian Lesson No. 4:  No toilet in Italy operates the same way.  Expect the unexpected!

While to date it seemed that we had gained a pound or two, it had to have been a pound or two of knowledge, so informative was our tour guide Ondra who was able to regale us with the history of the Regions and towns through which we had been travelling.  Supported by his dashingly ostentatious Italian off-sider and driver, Luigi, Ondra who hails from the Czech Republic, became our indispensable companion, carer and compass.  Versed as he was in the needs of a Choral group having his own extensive musical background as well as a capacious knowledge of European history, he became our engaging go-to guy often going above and beyond to accommodate the needs of many of our group who, by now had come down with coughs, colds, wonky joints and a lack of direction.

The wet weather gods were again testing us as we prepared the following day for our transfer from

our hotel to the historical centre of Venice.  A 2.6 kilometre crossing of the umbilicus of a bridge by bus to the Tronchetto where we tentatively embarked our granturismo, our boat , ironically named “Moby Dick” which was to take us to beautiful Venice and to our guide, Caterina, who was waiting to wire us  for sound for the 90 minute guided tour through The Doges Palace, opulent too tame a word to explain its imposing elegance, and its adjoining Bridge of Sighs, the final pitstop for prisoners in the past.

Traffic in and around Venice 

Surrounded by a lagoon, this unique city of Venice is infiltrated by water throughout its length and breadth and built for the most part over millions of wooden piles sunk vertically into the mud so as to bear the weight of the finest cluster of palaces and churches anywhere assembled in so small a space, its history no less  extraordinary than its buildings.  

Taking a Gondola Ride 

Following our guided tour and with the rest of the day at our leisure, Venice was ours for the exploring.  Teeming with tourists we joined the throng in the Piazza San Marco with its colourful cafes including the Caffe Florian, established in 1720, the oldest, reputedly the most expensive in the world, by any measure, a memorable experience.  A few did what one does when in Venice and hopped aboard the iconic gondola to be glided through the myriad of canals.  Others found the Rialto Bridge with its assortment of jewellery, clothing and souvenir shops or ventured down narrow cobbled lanes to find designer stores, galleries and countless cosy cafes.

Few can deny that Italians have an eye for colour and nowhere more so is this evident than on two of the islands in the Venetian lagoon, Murano and Burano.  The following day, with our transport scheduled around rush hour, it was every man for himself in an effort to remain as a group as we boarded the boat for Murano, famous for its colourful hand-blown glass creations since 1291 and then Burano, where many of the group found more room for the finer things in life… lace, latte macchiatos and more colourful kodak moments around the eye-catching colour washed  Burano buildings.

Vivaldi Concert in Venice 

Stocked with souvenirs, we boarded the boat back to Venice where fifteen of the group attended a glorious Vivaldi Concert while others, feeling the effects of a full day made their way back to Mestre and warm glow of a Baileys or two.

One didn’t have to be a weather-man to know which way the rain was falling on Day 10 as we departed Mestre, destination Bologna via Verona and Modena.  Fortunately, the forecast for later that day was ‘fine’. Upon reaching Verona, we rendezvoused with yet another of our very knowledgeable guides, Carla, who swept us along with the teeming tourists through this splendid city.  We passed colourful markets, elegant architecture dating back to 89BC, past  the balcony attributed to Shakespeare’s Juilette to finally finish in the Verona Arena, the amphitheatre which dates back to the 1^st century, where large scale operas are still staged and where ‘Cantiamo’ entertained wandering tourists with some beautiful spontaneous singing of our own.  

Verona Arena 

Staving off starvation with lunch at one of the many trattorias in the bustling Piazza Bra, it was soon back on the bus and off to Modena for the men’s much-awaited visit to the Ferrari Museum.  A few energetic others chose to accompany Ondra on a tour of the old town while many of the ladies, weary of hoof after our wandering  Verona, chose to cosy up in the Ferrari Cafeteria and ‘chew the fat’ over hot drinks, the visit to the Modena Balsamic Vinegar Factory and farm still on the afternoon’s agenda.

Ferrari Museum in Modena 

A difference of opinion 

Who knew the process of producing Balsamic Vinegar would prove to be so thoroughly entertaining and we all departed with new ways to utilise this delicious thick black syrup and containers of the highly prized traditional balsamic vinegar.

Due Torrie in Bologna 

With Bologna, our final stop for the day being the home of the most prestigious University in Italy and the oldest operating university in the world, (established in 1088), now with a student population of around 86,000, it seemed as we toured this city of hidden charms and learned of its art and century old cultures that its old town ambiance was overshadowed by the slew of students spilling out of bars and restaurants as we made our way to our hotel that evening.  Tiring of repeated meals of Italian cuisine, many groups descended upon the local Chinese Restaurant for a welcome reprieve from pasta, pork and puddings and, of course still managed to enjoy that cooling glass of prosecco.   And so it is with this picture of conviviality that I will bid you all a presto to take you in the next edition to the romantic city of Florence and the Lorenzo De Medici Choral Festival.

By: Sue Walker (No.25!)

Murano Glass 

Pavarotti fans in Modena 

Proseco Ladies 

On the steps of  Basilica san Petronio in Bologna  

San Marco Square, Venice 

Venice canal 

Rainy night in Venice 

Bridge of Sighs Venice 

                                

Doge's palace 

Carolyn and Lloyd take a Gondola ride in Venice 

Burano Street 

Go to our next leg of the Journey Four Days of Festivities in Florence

T16 EUROPEAN TOUR - PART 2

T16 Choir in Cathedral of St Michael and St Gudula in Brussels

"OK...let's do a count...Joann?!!" this being the instruction from our diligent Tour Manager, Kathleen, in order to keep track of 30 inquisitive/intrepid/talkative tourists. Kathleen had previously devised a 'buddy system' which, when reminded, worked a treat in sussing out missing members.  However, as a back-up measure, it was decided to 'count off ' before departing any location which also worked well until our driver Klaus, familiarity having bred in him a wicked sense of humour, began throwing in odd numbers during the tally,  throwing the number-system out and the bus into chaos!!  However, we managed to overcome this hurdle by completing the count while he took time-out for 'smoko' an unfortunate dependence but one which surely saved his sanity when it came to finding our Hotel in Brussels.

Clive in the 'mini-tub'

Now all things considered, our Hotel accommodation thus far, while lacking in one or two aspects of ideal customer convention, had been well located allowing easy access during our free-time explorations.  However, it appeared that The Hotel Van Belle in Brussels must have slipped the Travel Agent's reconnaissance missions for it appeared to be located in a less than salubrious and convenient area for our purposes.   Broken safes, we were assured would be fixed with the hotel management installing their own combination..uhhh??...and so tiny was Clive's bathroom that it necessitated him having to divide his showering into upper and lower body shifts in order to successfully complete the job!   However, I am getting ahead of myself for it was the assignment of accessing the Hotel which became an operation of major proportions. 

Klaus pondering his best options.

You see, our untimely arrival at rush hour on a Friday afternoon was not ideal.  Nor it seemed were the Hotel renovations being undertaken which made difficult the seemingly simple task of identifying the place.   It therefore necessitated the re- navigation of a 40 foot bus around a block or two of very narrow streets.  Up a one way street, a half turn right and we were stuck! ...for at least an hour with

Tour Guide Ondra offering suggestions and Klaus trying to inch his way around  parked cars, huge round obstacles on footpaths, street signs, trees and peak hour traffic resembling blocked arteries, while chain-smoking between  manoeuvres and lamenting in a language we were fortunately unable to translate.  With all options exhausted, the only solution being to Send in the Troops.  So while a growing posse of pedestrians also began to ponder our predicament, Clive, Eric and Ondra took it upon themselves to single-handedly halt the road traffic and re-angle road signs in order to allow Klaus to scrape and scratch his way through to freedom, the only consequence, some ugly scarring on the side of Klaus's bus from the sign and his bruised ego though we did hail him 'our hero' which helped to soften the fallout.

Initial impressions of the Belgian Capital were soon transformed when the following morning, another picture perfect day presented itself for inspection and we to the 'Old Town', an aesthetically more beautiful side of Brussels where, our English speaking French guide, Anneke took us on an informative and entertaining tour of the City.  Anecdotes interwoven amongst so many interesting historical facts told of the stories behind such things as 'Puss in Boots', the expression ' heads will roll',  an unfortunate consequence should one admit to not being Catholic and sadly, the rite of the rulers of the time. 

Mannekin Pis

Brussels Town Square

Judging by the snap-happy masses who had gathered to ogle and admire (and that included us), there also seemed to be an uncanny fascination for the little statue, Mannekin Pis, or as we English speaking prefer, The Pissing Boy. 

Legends abound of its origins, but a particular favourite is the one stating that in the 14th century, Brussels was under siege by a foreign power.  Having held its ground for some time, the attackers, frustrated, decided to blow the place up with explosives placed around the city walls. This little boy named Julianske urinated on the burning fuses and saved the city.  Fascinating how history recalled can soon become legend...eventually myth!  I think it is also safe to say no one in Brussels has ever heard the word 'diet'; where chocolates are a way of life and the waffle is clearly not just a delightful culinary dish but a work of art...so, when in Brussels...!!

Cathedral of St Michael
And St Gudula, Brussels.

However, with so much to see, do and eat, it was easy to forget that the primary purpose of this day was our longed for performance at The Brussels Cathedral of St. Michael and St Gudula. To not be uplifted when one enters such a magnificent Gothic edifice which dates back to the 11th Century and 300 years in the making is to not live.  And so even with Margaret perched precariously on a pivoting piano stool, to have had the privilege of singing from the steps of the centre Altar was beyond description taking us to new heights, our performance, inspirational.  Many wandering tourists stayed to listen as our voices soared and spiraled to the glorious stained glass ceilings.

It took 532 steps heavenward to capture this view over
the Rhine and Cologne. KW

The following morning's early arctic temperatures were not enough to curb the enthusiasm as we once again packed our bags and boarded the bus for the 2 hour trip into Germany, first stop, Cologne where our time was our own to wander.  Cologne, the 4th largest city in Germany, was one of the most heavily bombed by the RAF during World War II, leading to its almost entire destruction.  The successful post-war rebuilding has resulted in a very mixed and unique city-scape of nondescript buildings alongside the glorious architecture of medieval churches and local government structures.  Cologne's gigantic double spired Cathedral, the largest facade of any church in the world, appeared to dominate the skyline.  A corner turned and one might run into an ancient Roman wall dating back to 38BC or turn around another to find a museum housing many ancient artefacts.   However, Sundays were slim pickings when it came to shopping with most retail stores closed though many of us were still capable of adding kilos to our kits and few could resist the warmth of 'Cafe Reichard' renowned for its delicious coffee, surpassed only by the display of exquisite cakes on offer.  Soon, however, it was auf wiedersehen Cologne...guten Tag Bonn.

Our hosts in this beautiful city certainly knew how to put Bonn into bonhomie, their humbling hospitality leaving no stone unturned.  It appeared that most of Europe was undergoing renovations post Brexit and this Hotel zur Post, possibly once the Post Office, was no exception though all needs were satisfied right down to the delicious home cooked dinner and our quaint 'Hansel and Gretel' rooms, which were by comparison extremely large,  a very welcomed luxury.

Think Bonn and one cannot go past arguably the World's most famous and influential composer, Ludwig van Beethoven, Bonn being his birthplace.  Our tour of Beethoven Haus told much of his life and compositions including some three dimensional images and sound reproductions of his many stage works and few could leave without a little bit of Beethoven in their bags. 

In Front of Beethoven Haus

 

Our next day in Bonn had us heading to Satzvey Castle, one of Germany's largest, most well preserved privately owned moated Castles which dates back to the 12th Century. Our guide throughout a most entertaining two hours took us on the Castle's journey through the Middle Ages to the present with his often humorous accounts of the families who have called this Castle home.  Even the current Master of the House, a descendent of the von Gymnich family who has owned the castle since the 1700s, tipped his hat as he appeared to make his way through our throng to his private quarters to Johanna's equally affable rejoin, "Oh hello, we've just dropped in for a cup of tea!"

It was during that day in the picturesque precincts of Aachen, Germany's westernmost city, where we were to experience a most unexpected pleasure. This when our Moira Curtain's cousin who, with her husband Peter had popped across from their Netherland home in Maastricht for some family time with their Aussie rellies.  Cousin-in-law Peter, who incidentally just happens to reside in the very same street as Maestro Andre Rieu, was blessed with an extensive knowledge of Aachen Cathedral's past and to our delight agreed to treat us all to an informative insight into its magnificent architectural and historical nooks and crannies. This oldest of all Cathedrals in northern Europe, we learned, was constructed by order of the Emperor Charlemagne who happened to love Aachen; who died in 814 and whose remains still repose in the Cathedral's depths along with other sacred relics. These facts were made all the more poignant when, with some pride, one of our own, Kathleen, following extensive research,  was able to call the first Holy Roman Emperor, Charlemagne, 'Grampa Charlie' albeit with 37 generations of separation.  It was here in the majesty of this ancient Cathedral that our ladies were given the privilege of an impromptu performance of    'Ave Maria' which had all hearts soaring along with our voices.

Day 9 and our journey through patchwork farming fields and rolling green vineyards pregnant with grapes, en route to the expectations of a long luxurious Rhine River Cruise Boat awaiting us in the picturesque Rhine waterways of Speyer; of craggy castles and tiny villages along the way too numerous to imagine, had us all feeling just a little bit euphoric. In reality, it was a 'Puffin Billy' boat

A relaxing ride on the Rhine.  Aaaahhh!!!!

which took us up a small section of the River and the closest thing to castles were the rafts of ducks dabbling and diving amongst the tentacles of tree roots.  However, with many of our own flock, by now weary of hoof following days of walking tours, disappointment soon turned to welcome relief with the sheer joy of a relaxing sojourn on the river during which we were able to shoot the breeze and recollect adventures over a sweet Riesling or beverage of choice.

And so dear readers, it is with this image of our Rhine River relaxation tucked away that I too will bid you auf wiedersehen for this edition and invite you to come along with me in the next for the journey to Worms and the beginning of  the tour's 'pointy end' with a plethora of performances still to come.

Misty morning in Bonn

Impromptu singing - 'Waltzing Matilda' - at Satzvey Castle 

Alexis at Stazvey Castle

Aachen Cathedral - Charlemagne's Tomb (back)

See more T16 Stories

T16 Part 1 

T16 Part 3 

T16 Part 4