ItalyPage13

JUNE 9, 2001 SATURDAY

Today we got up and packed up and cleaned up the apartment, then took the bus to the airport to get our rental car. The special airport shuttle from the Santa Maria Novella station was prominently advertised—easy, fast, convenient. We caught our little bus at the Fiesole piazza and headed for the SMN station.

We arrived at the station with 20 minutes to get to our airport shuttle. I took my Monopoly game in case we had to wait and I got bored. Ha! In true Italian fashion, there were no signs indicating where in the immense station, with 15 train binarios and bus stops for 50 city buses and another 35 extended area buses, one might find the stop for the airport shuttle. But, we had that solved! With my nice map of the transportation system, I knew there was a stop on the east side of the station, so we headed over to that side of the block and walked up and down the street looking for any sign. Nothing. Pretty soon I started asking bus operators—“around the corner something something garage on the left, under something.” Well, we wandered around some more, looking right and left, over and under things. No shuttle stop. Time was getting short. Finally, I asked one more driver and he pointed down the block, not even at the train station. So off we went, hiking along. Luckily Don spotted an opening in the rock wall, and when we looked inside, there was a secret bus station, inside a fortress! And, there was our airport shuttle.

When we got to the airport, we had to have another heated discussion, because we could not find the car rental. We had been let out of the shuttle at the departures area, and figured we needed to go to the arrivals area for the car rental booths, but where was it? We could see the rental cars sitting there waiting to be rented and driven away, and we could see the parking spot where Paola had picked us up 2 months ago, but we could not see an arrivals area. Finally we found it in another building, around a corner and down the lane. We went in to rent our car, and the rental area was packed. There were 6 rental desks in the space used for one rental agency in the San Jose airport. Luckily the Avis counter line had only 3 people, so we were able to rent our car and head out without much delay.

The Florence airport is really quite nice for going into and out of. It is a small airport, and so you don’t have to deal with a lot of busy, rushing cars and people. Once out of the airport, we drove around checking out some hotels for our last night. Don made a reservation, and then we drove back to Fiesole to get the luggage and say goodbye.

We decided to take the back route out of Fiesole, and drive across the mountains towards the west and CinqueTerre. We stopped at a nice spot for lunch with a great view of Florence, and looking right down on the airport. Sitting there Don decided he would go back down to the airport hotel and leave our bikes in their storage until our return.

It was getting late so we decided to take the tollway. As we came out of the hotel parking lot, Don jumped on an overpass and started for Pisa on the theory that it was west, and that is where we were going. But, the road to Pisa goes southwest, and we wanted to go northwest, so we got off, and made our way across the burbs to highway A11. Sure enough, there it was, just follow the signs. Well, that is just what we did, and suddenly found ourselves heading east to Florence! What?!?! We got off, paid the toll for our short trip east, and asked the tolltaker how to turn around and go to Lucca. He couldn’t help, so Don took advantage of a break in the divider cones, and flipped a U on the tollway, and we were finally headed out in the right direction.

Don got in the Italian spirit of things and sped, at breakneck speed, along the tollway. I was afraid to look at the speedometer after 2 months of a slo-mo life, so I just held on and shut my eyes once in awhile. I was relieved when we got off the freeway and headed over the coastal mountains for the remote area of CinqueTerre.

Our route across the mountains was a tiny, circuitous road, with several opportunities to make a wrong turn and end up in a box canyon, or a gully at the bottom of the mountain, or at the top of a peak at an observation tower. We got a very detailed map of the area and I watched closely to be sure we didn’t make a wrong turn. Finally we arrived at the first of the 5 towns of C-T, Riomaggiore. We took the turnoff from the road, and soon found ourselves way down the hill, but stopped by a swinging road barrier. There is no driving in the town, and the nearby parking was full. That is why there were cars parked on the side of the road, using up about 2/3 of one of the two lanes, all the way up the steep hill! We decided to go on to the next town.

At Manarola we found the same thing. This time we parked and walked down into the town. I was glad, because I hadn’t used the restroom since we left Fiesole, and I was in need. We walked down the steep hill, to the ocean. We saw lots of tourists, restaurants, tourists, bars, more tourists, shops full of tourist stuff, tourists, but no bathroom. We asked at a few hotels, B&Bs etc, looking for lodging, but they were full for Saturday night. We left and went to the town at the top of the hill, but there was no sign of a hotel there. Now it was 6pm and we were starting to panic—Don because he wanted a place to stay and me because I wanted a bathroom. I suggested that we leave Cinque Terre and go to the nearest big town, which is a large port city, and get a hotel for the night and try to find something in one of the C-T towns the next day. But, somehow we ended up stopping at Riomagiorre again. Don was just determined to stay there.

Don drove the car down the narrow road, made more narrow by cars parked along the edge, and stopped at the gate and got out and went marching down the road toward a hotel. Soon a fellow in a fancy car pulled into the ½ space between the parked cars and my car and yelled Italian out the window at me as he pushed his special resident automatic control and the barrier went up for him to pass through. Next came a medium sized truck. There was no way he could get through. There was no place for me to go. It was an impasse. All of this while I was sitting there, holding my legs together, trying not to pee in my pants. The truck honked, flicked its lights, honked again. There was nothing to do but start the car and drive into forbidden territory, knees held together as tightly as possible in the circumstances.

Once into the special, private, residents only drive, there was no where to go. I pulled into a small space at the side of the road, and the truck impatiently honked and flicked some more. That was his space! I drove on, down the road. Finally I found a little hole where I could turn around, and as I drove back toward the barrier gate I picked up Don, who was just coming out of the hotel with no luck on a room. We drove on to the barrier gate, and luckily someone with a magic flicker was coming in, so we were able to drive out, and there was a parking space, so we parked and Don went down the hill to find a bed for the night. I stayed in the car, keeping my knees tight and crossing my fingers and toes. I was quite stressed by this time.

Finally he came back, and said he had arranged an apartment for 3 days and a parking space inside the magic gate! So down the hill we drove into the parking structure and found our assigned garage cubicle. There were three girls there, peeking in through the holes in the garage door. They stood back when Don walked up and unlocked the door and raised it, only to find that there was a car already parked there! Well, it was their car, and they had parked it there without permission (I think) and the owner must have come along and shut their car in the garage. It was their lucky day that Don opened it up and they were able to get their car out. (While all of this was going on, I still had to pee!)

Don parked the car and then informed me that we had to walk quite a way down into the town to our apartment. We put on our duffel bags, which have straps to make them into packs, and gathered up some loose things from around the car, and shut the car up. We hiked down, down, down, through a restaurant, down an alley, under an arch, up some narrow stairs. Don put his key in the lock and I sighed. A toilet was imminent. Things were looking up! No, they weren’t. The key wouldn’t work. Don tried and tried. Then he went up to the next door and tried that one. No door would open. Then he said, “Well, maybe I don’t have the right narrow stairway.”, and he went off in search of another one. Ooooooo! I had to pee. After awhile he came back, and off we went down another narrow stone alley, and up another narrow, dark stairway, and tried another narrow Italian door. Finally we got in, and, yeah! I made it to the bathroom. Sigh!

Well, now I felt better, and MUCH, MUCH happier, and I was ready to go out and check out the town. But poor Don! He was so sweaty and stressed out he could only take a shower and lay down to rest on the bed.

After about and hour of rest we were able to resume normal, civil relations again.

Thanks for your interest in our travels.

Links to other reports: Page 1 Siena

Page 2 Roma

Page 3 Porto Recanati

Page 4 Essay on Italian Television

Page 5 Giro d'Italia

Page 6 Assisi & Montefalco

Page 7 Todi, Etruscan Pottery, Giro d'Italia

Page 8 Orvieto, Missed the last Tram down,

Page 9 iChiari, Castiglione de Lago, Caldo??

Page10 Fiesole, Florence