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This way that way
Originally uploaded by apes_abroad.

Our week in Chiavari was super chill. With the exception of our trip to Cinque Terre, we stayed in the city limits and really got into a groove. A typical day went like this: wake up late, breakfast on the deck (eggs on toast or cereal). Then change to our bikinis and lay in the sun while Colin works on Clutter. Two or three people head down the walking path to town and buy fresh food for dinner, careful to avoid the siesta hours between noon and 4 when most shops are closed. Maybe stop at the beach for a swim (Colin and I declined – my new bikini is too skimpy for public viewing anyway). In the afternoon back to the deck for white wine then red, reading and chatting and eating tapas. Lots of good, cheap wine in Italy as you might expect. Dinner at 9 or 10 o’clock, usually cooked by Jeff and the girls although a few nights we ventured down to eat out. Colin and I set tables and cleaned up, then we share some more wine until sometime after midnight. Repeat!

On our last day we followed the walking path up into the hills instead of down, and discovered it’s a huge loop trail called the 5 Towers. We stopped near the top for wine and ice cream. Then Jeff took the train back up to London for his flight out, and Colin, Kim, Lia and I spent the day in big city Genoa (Genova) before going our separate ways. It may have been the week of doing not-much in a small town, but I was thrilled by Genova. It’s steeped in history and all that, but as a modern city it’s also very comfortable and functional. We visited the big food market Mercato Orientale and ogled the fish and cheeses, enjoyed pedestrian-only streets and shopping centers in beautiful centuries-old buildings. Their old city was the best of all though; winding cobbled streets and tiny alleys; cafes and brothels and people selling odds and ends from card tables on the side of the street. We visited the Galata Maritime Museum which was very hands-on with full sized boat replicas and a surprisingly engaging simulation of heading to Ellis Island at the turn of the last century. Everyone was given a different person to be; mine was an elderly actress who survived the Titanic only to die six months later.

We stopped for coffee then wine on a wide carless street in the old city, and were delighted as the waiter starting bringing us unasked for nibblets: nuts, chips, focaccia , sausage pizza and fruit. By the end we were full enough to skip dinner, and even more surprised by the bill: espresso, wine and a meal for only 4 euro each. I think he must have liked us, but man after that I wanted to stay another week. We took a funicular up to a lush upscale neighborhood and walked along a ridge back to the train station where we said goodbye to Kim and Lia, who are heading to Barcelona next. Colin and I spent the night in a neat hotel (the Albergo Argentina) which takes up half a floor in a huge old palace near the train station. We had a shared bath but private sink and bidet in the room, unusual but convenient.

I guess to sum Italy up: it was as old as they say but cheaper than I expected, the sun was warm and the wine was excellent. Sharing it with friends was the best part, we’re going to miss them!

One of the Cinque Terre
Originally uploaded by apes_abroad.

After Lenka’s birthday marked the end of Lenkapalooza in the Czech Republic, Kim, Lia, Jeff, Colin and I headed off to our villa in the Italian Riviera. We took a series of trains to: Prague,where I spent the last of my crowns on Czech chocolate bars with exotic ingredients like alcohol and caffeine, then to Vienna, where we went for a walk in the shopping district nearby but it being Sunday everything was closed, then to Rome where our private overnight train compartment was a smashing success with goodies like Campari and a great free breakfast, then finally to our new digs in Chiavari (Keeahvaree) just east of Genoa.

Life is peaceful here. Right now we’re out on the deck with our laptops and books, looking down to the city and the Mediterranean through our grove of olive trees. The house is huge (we each have our own bedroom) and isolated in a corner of a vineyard estate. We were welcomed by the owner who brought us wine and vinegar from his grapes and olive oil from the trees over me now. Most evenings we have been staying in and cooking dinner for ourselves, then eating out on the deck with the fireflies. Chiavari is a tourist destination for Italian families; not a whole ton of restaurants, but plenty of places to buy fresh produce, meat and pasta. It’s a good place to get away from city life and hide out with your friends and loved ones. Colin has been working on Clutter and I might even join him today (my focus so far has been on sunbathing and napping).

Yesterday the five of us did the Cinque Terre hike in the national park east along the coast. It is a beautifully built stone walking path that connects five cities in improbable, isolated locations on the water. The railroad connects them now, but it’s possible some of the paths are still used by locals to access the vineyards perched on the steep hillsides above the cities. We started at the far end in Riomaggiore and the romantic lover’s walk to Manarola. This portion of the trail was a wide and easy stroll, decorated with little locks that people attach to seal their love, and graffiti hearts on every flat surface including the cacti. We bought some snacks from a bakery in Manarola then hurried on, eager to lose the crowds. The second leg was still pretty easy going but questionably built into the side of a cliff face. The amount of work this trail must have been to create is unimaginable. They had to blast into the cliff face, then pile up and fit together tonnes and tonnes of flat rocks without cement or anything to attach them together. I think part of it was necessary for building the railroad, but it was done with such quality craftsmanship and is a real work of beauty.

We stopped for lunch at the Lantern restaurant in Corniglia and met some friendly stray cats, then onward to Vernazza where the path got steep enough to deter many of the other walkers. If you’re thinking of doing the Cinque Terre hike, I suggest you do it east-west like we did; this leg looked just exhausting coming from the other direction but for us was mostly downhill. Just enough stairs up to make us glad for the little sprinkle of rain we received. When we reached Vernazza we stopped for beer and G&Ts with a view of the adorable town, which lived up to its reputation as the most lovely of the five, perched on a rock on the edge of the sea. The surrounding hillsides were terraced with vineyards, with little monorail carts to help get supplies up and down.

We’d been warned that the last section of path from Vernazza to Monterosso al Mare was the most treacherous, but we had a feeling the people passing us with hiking boots and double walking sticks were a little overprepared. We did it in dresses and sandals and didn’t have any trouble, although the initial hike up from the water had me sweating hard. It was still nothing compared to our sunset hike a few weeks ago back in Sakl?kent Gorge, at least here I could pause when I wanted and admire the lush surroundings. The last leg was without doubt the most beautiful, and felt like we were wandering through a 200-year overgrown flower garden. Which I suppose it might have been in some parts. It did get very narrow by the end and passing oncoming hikers was a bit of a sketchy maneuver, but by 6pm it was mostly empty and the day was cooling down.

The rambling flora became orchards and vineyards again as we neared the last town, and we were delighted to come across a pathside stand run by an amusing man who sold us his homemade limonchello (lemon liqueur) and glasses of red wine. He complained that nobody in Monterosso made wine anymore, they just worked in the hotels and bars down in town. Then he showed us his calloused hands, gestured to the incredibly steep hillside vineyard around us and said “it is fucking hard work to make wine here”. Indeed!

We’re relaxing and recovering a bit today but may head out later for groceries. There are two lovely walking paths going down from our villa to the town. Well, they are walking paths now, but there are still street signs and old brickwork suggesting that before cars these were well trafficked roads. As I mentioned, we (by which I mean Jeff with help from Kim and Lia) have been cooking dinner most nights, although one evening we ate out and I had a huge plate of fish ravioli with the most amazing muscles and clams I have ever eaten. I wouldn’t mind another shot at those before we leave Chiavari.

Beers in Lenka’s dad’s local pub
Originally uploaded by apes_abroad.

We spent our last three days of Lenka’s birthday extravaganza in her home town of Plzen (birthplace of pilsner beer) at her parent’s house. Lenka’s sister Pavlina graciously gave over her room and the whole upstairs of the house for us to crash in. Her parents were immensely welcoming; her dad picked our bags up from the train station and her mom already had goulash and potato soup ready for supper, followed by two kinds of delicious homemade cake (the recipes were demanded immediately). There is an abandoned brick factory behind the Zikmund household and I think their home used to be a part of it, but they’ve done so much work to it over the years so you’d never guess. Our upstairs was bright and full of skylights, but the most interesting feature of the lot were the pigeon houses.

Pigeon apartments more like: three big sheds housing somewhere between 150-200 pigeons for Lenka’s dad’s hobby of pigeon racing. He has been buying and breeding them for years much to his wife’s displeasure. We saw the babies in their nests, teenage birds duking it out for the best perch, new birds acclimatizing in a closed cage, and of course the champions. There was a race on Saturday and it went like this: the ten fastest, brightest birds were equipped with trackers and shipped to Belgium the day before. At 8am they were released where they flew way up, got their bearings by the earth’s magnetic field, then headed straight for home at an average speed of 70kph. Around 3pm the first ones arrived and their trackers triggered as they entered the yard. Lenka’s dad said sometimes they’ll land on the chimmney in the brick yard instead while he yells furiously at them to come down within range of the detector.

Lenka’s dad took us out for beers the first night, but we were still pretty trashed from the night in ?eský Krumlov so we had to pack it in early. The next day we went for a tour at the Pilsner Urquell brewery, obviously a much beloved icon in the town of Plsen. The highlight of the tour was the 9km of cellars beneath the compound where they used to ferment beer in barrels. They do it aboveground now in air conditioned tanks, but back in the day it was ice blocks and wooden barrels. They still do a few barrels a month this way just for the tourists, and we had a few glasses of it which was the best beer we’d tasted since BC. It’s the same hopped malt that turns into (imo pretty tasteless) bottled Pilsner Urquell beer, but before the filtering and pasteurizing process takes all the yummy hoppiness and depth from it. We found out they also serve it in a single pub beside the Pilsner Urquell museum, but that’s it. In Czech we mainly drank Gambrinus and Pilsner Urquell, and a lot of it. Not very interesting for my tastebuds so I kept being difficult and ordering mead or wine cocktails, but I could drink that unfiltered Urquell every night for the next month and be happy.

That day was Lenka’s birthday so dinner was a big party with her family and all her old friends from school. Four of us shared – you can probably guess at this point – a huge plate of meat. It included a big slab of fat back which frightened me but Colin later quoted it as the best thing he’d eaten in Czech. I should mention Lenka is a vegetarian, I don’t know how she put up with us and our carnivorous ways. I drank korma which was beer and mead combined, and better than it sounds. Then her parents took Charlie and Chelsea (who had to leave early the next morning) and Colin home, and the rest of us went out on the town. It was a special religious occasion and all of the churches in Plzen were fully open to visitors including their catacombs. We visited one where somebody was playing random notes on a gigantic organ; most visitors were young people on their way to the bars but surprisingly nobody seemed to mind. The club we went to was nothing special, we felt pretty old and the DJ played OPP (yeah you know…). It was attached to a cafe which was more our style and of course since there are no open container laws in the Czech Republic we could just take our drinks outside.

We took it easy the next day. We hadn’t stayed out late, but I think the busy week was finally taking its toll and we just needed some downtime. We did some shopping at the Tesco while Matt and Colin went for one more unfiltered beer, then we walked around some and snacked at a cafe built into the old town wall. Lenka’s mom once again outdid herself and baked us strudel and gingerbread for breakfast then an amazing dinner. She is one remarkable lady, and to our delight she speaks English very well and has a wonderful sense of humor. We ate out in their yard and followed dinner with a bottle of wine, then another, then another, then some plum vodka… Lenka’s dad obviously enjoyed entertaining us as he topped up our glasses and we celebrated the straggler pigeons returning on their long journey from Belgium.

Today Kim, Lia, Jeff, Colin and I embarked on our own journey by train. Lenka’s mom made us all fried egg sandwiches for the trip and I spent the last of my Czech crowns on exotic chocolate bars. Our train from Prague to Vienna has – get this – tables and power outlets. I’m having a pretty blissful time here sitting by the window with my laptop, developing photos and watching for the Czech-Austrian border to go by.

Ciao Czech Republic, next up: Italy!

?eský Krumlov
Originally uploaded by apes_abroad.

Okay so, from here things get a little hazy. We took a day trip to the Bone Church in Kutna Hora. It was this little nothing church until some famous religious guy threw special dirt on the floor, then it suddenly became the hottest place for miles to have your grannie buried. Everybody wanted in, and after a few plagues and a thousand or so years, this tiny church had 30,000 bodies and no space to put them. They’d leave the bodies in the ground for awhile then have to dig up the bones and make room for fresh corpses. First they just stacked the bones outside, then some nutball monk started getting creative. He arranged them in huge cubes, pyramids, in the shape of crosses and spelling out words, and in a spectacular chandelier. The oddest was a coat of arms that used lots of the smaller bones for all the details. For most of it he only used the best bits (femurs and skulls) because he had so damn many to work with. I believe I finally had my fill of dead people on this outing.

That night we experienced The Pub (Pilsner Unique Bar). It’s a chain of bar/restaurants with beer taps in the center of each table. You compete on a huge scoreboard to see who can drink the most each night against people in other bars and cities. I’m happy to say we were tops in our bar and third in the country by the end, though it helped having 9 people at our table. The food was surprisingly good too, except for the nachos which Colin ordered against everyone’s advice. He’s been craving Mexican food since we left BC but here sometimes ‘nachos’ means Doritos with watery tomato sauce dip.

Next day we left Prague for good and headed to the cutest little town in Czech: ?eský Krumlov. It’s adorable, adorable adorable. There’s a huge church all painted up with trompe l’oeil and sundials, there’s a bear moat (with bears!) and a big wall all built into bare rock. The big river in Prague also runs through here and is dotted with restaurants and cafes and people raft on it. It’s touristy but in a very chill way with lots of local artisans and cute cafes, no obnoxious touts or trinket shops.

We went for dinner at the Two Marys, and here is where things got seriously fuzzy for me. We shared another big meat plate, but the portions were surprisingly small for Czech and we didn’t end up stuffed full as usual. Which meant more room for beer and delicious hot mead. Lots of room. We ate outside beside the river, it starting to rain lightly but still warm and we were under cover. We met some German guys in their 70s who were bicycling across the country and stayed for another round. And another.

Then we came back to the hotel – oh I should describe it too because it’s worth recommending – the Traveler’s Hostel is run by very nice people and the apartment that we shared with Charlie and Chelsea was like a ski lodge, one three story high room with a kitchenette and view of the castle. We all spent most of the next morning in there because of what happened after we got back from dinner. We ended up in the Hostel bar drinking beers, wine and soda, and you could tell the exact moment things got out of control: tequila shots.

So some things happened, I think there was a dog and foosball, a scruffy Australian guy, a lenghthy Christopher Walkin impression and an excessive amount of Alanis Morisette. Cut to most of us waking up still in our clothes and with terrifying hangovers. Colin seemed to have the worst of it, but if I remember clearly I think the tequila was his suggestion. The day after was a bit of a writeoff, but we spent most of it on the train to Plzen anyway. We all squeezed into a train compartment together and I nodded off for some of it.

If I had dreamed it might have been about some of the Czech stuff I’ve forgotten to mention so far:
– Zachodova Baba (Bathroom Grandma), our name for the ladies who take your 5 crowns in pay toilets
– Potato Pancakes soaked in pork knuckle fat
– Jeff holding whole conversations in Czech after just learning it, such amazing linguistic talent!
– K?džh?k (Crojar) and his even more mentally deranged younger brother Aggro Bucket Man
– Hot Cherry Brandy and cold Raspberry pop
– Sharing a train compartment with a surly twentysomething nerd in a black dragon t-shirt
– Creepy VW Bug-sized metal babies climbing up the side of a communism era tower
– Heisel Humr (Toilet Lobster), the product of some sleep deprived minds on the train
– Rabbit and Quail and Venison oh my
– Lenka ordering for us in Czech at every restaurant and buying all our train and tour tickets, what a wonderful guide she has been!
– Evil train station lunch ladies
– Glowing fetuses on the sides of buildings
– Stinky smelly pickled beer cheese
– The magician pulling a hankerchief from Lenka’s rear end

In the Rain
Originally uploaded by apes_abroad.

I feel like I’m not doing these days in Czech justice so far. Probably it’s because it was like four days ago and there was so much happening (and a lot of beer) that now it seems like a blur. Let me stress that we were A) super happy to be with our friends, B) very impressed with Czech food, and C) in love with the peace and beauty of Prague.

On our third day we visited the Walshtein gardens. We had seen it from afar and noticed a grey wall that looked from a distance like it was built of howling faces. Up close it was more like random patterns in lava, but every here and there were indeed hidden faces. There were peacocks, then we took a furnicular up to a tower that looked sort of like the eiffel tower. It was a long way up it, and Colin hopped the entire way. He certainly earned his beer that day, wheuf.

It started out as a beautiful sunny day, and I wore my little dress from southwestern Turkey and my new leather strap sandals. I just developed about five pictures of myself, so vain. But after we came back down from the tower, the clouds finally came together over us and the sky broke open. It poured! We scurried for cover in a mirror maze and took hilarious pictures of ourselves as three foot tall gnomes with cone heads and beasts with long dangling gorilla arms. We also saw the Cimrman museum in the tower basement. Cimrman was a fictional person, a pseudnom for political artists around the time of the revolution. In the museum we witnessed his made up life as an inventor of such devices as the gentleman’s travelling chamber-pot and a clip that secured your glasses to your hat so neither would fly off.

The rain only got worse as dinner approached so we eventually had to make a run for it. Out of the park, down the furnicular, across to the metro and back to the castle we ran from cover to cover. Nobody was expecting rain and only Colin had a waterproof jacket with a hood. By the time we made it across the bridge to the restaurant we were soaked through. Poor Jeff was starving and looked like a wet cat. We wrung out our clothes, hung the outer layers up to dry and started with a round of hot grog. Colin and I shared goulash in a bread bowl and for once we weren’t too stuffed for desert.

We hit up the brewpub (pivovar) Fleku next door where they only had one type of beer. Servers wandered table to table with platters of the dark and tasty brew and shot glasses of bitter yellow liquid. An old guy with an accordion and a wide smile played Long Way to Tipereli and Yellow Submarine and everyone sang along. It was touristy but we didn’t care; we were dry and warm and the rain had stopped outside. Good beer and friends: all was right with the world.