Kornel…
Wednesday 28 August
Today we went into Vienna to have a look around but we didn’t get far. We were out the front of the Hofburg, the building where Archduke Franz Ferdinand whose death kicked off WWII, renounced his claim to the throne because he married below his rank when our little Swiss man Arsène was stung by a Hapsburg bee. Being allergic, this was not a good way to start the day. We knew we had limited time before it was going to start to get unbearable for him so we went to the Naschmarkt to buy dinner, visited a few artdeco buildings, including of course the Secession, had a quick take away lunch and then made it back to Norbert’s before Arsène’s hand doubled in size. We threw everything at it. Antihistamines, ice packs, anti-itch soap, words of encouragement but there was nothing to be done. Unfortunately he is going to have to ride this one out over the next few days. We are just lucky that we are at Norbert’s. It is going to be a difficult night for all of us. Xavier made a fabulous dinner for us while Lisa dealt with Arsène’s hand and Norbert continued to iron out issues in NY. We came together with a wholesome intimate dinner. It’s so special to be able to show up in a foreign city and be made to feel so welcome.
Thursday 29 August
Today was all about preparing for our departure early tomorrow morning. Washing clothes. Repairing tent poles. We didn’t get out today because we were held hostage by Arsène’s bee stung hand. It was perfect. The extra time made way for wonderful conversations with Norbert and time to enjoy this friendship. Tourism can definitely wait. Oreste and Lisa also had the opportunity to do some maths work which was unusually enjoyable for both.
Lisa had to administer rescue remedy to try and bring Arsène down a few notches. By nightfall, we emerged from the bedroom into the calm of the rest of the apartment subdued by the warm, quiet lighting and found the tent which was repaired for us by the quietly spoken, gentle yet pained man. He has been here for man years separated from his wife and children. Skilled, poetic, knowledgeable but just not at home. We were all humbled and deeply moved by this generously warm gesture despite the cold, cruel irony that chokes it.
Friday 30 August
Left Vienna at 7:58am on the train as planned for Maribor in Slovenia. Arsène’s hand was bettering in the morning which is a relief for all of us except that we didn’t have a very good sleep because of the trance like madness he was in.
We studied Léon’s earth science worksheet as we travelled over the mountainous ‘crust’ we were reading about, in all it’s dramatic and cloud filled valleys.
As soon as we got off the train in Maribor, Arsène’s hand became a really acute stress factor. Inside, outside, every few metres we had to try something else. More calamine lotion. More water. We couldn’t go any further than the nearest camping spot at 6kms as a result. He was absolutely hysterical on the bike with the trancelike state of madness that had returned. Somehow we ended up splitting into two groups and lost one another which didn’t help the situation at all. Lisa and Arsène didn’t have any map or any idea where the camp ground was. We started going back but didn’t know how far we should go. Should we stay put or retrace our steps? Could Lisa leave Arsène in one spot while she went searching? Would she remember where he was? It all started to feel very wrong. After multiple whistles, call out and horn honks, we found one another again and in fact were travelling in parallel but on opposite sides of the bushy nature strip.
We arrived early at the camping ground and pitched what feels like the new tent. Our unidentifiable seamster carried out such careful and thorough work on on our home making sure it would see us through. If only others would have taken such pride in their work, he may have not been so broken.
Saturday 31 August
We left Maribor at the usual 9:30ish and were surprised by how fast we were travelling. By 3:30pm we were already in Celje with only some 70ks left before we get to Ljubijana which we can do tomorrow. We rode through fresh, damp, green forests, came across fish farms and a beautifully aligned field of pumpkins. An artwork. Nicely designed man holes and came across the tallest cows we’ve seen so far. They had the longest legs ever seen on a cow, were lean, strong and very imposing. They dwarfed the boys. We’re not sure if we were looking at bulls or oxen. In any case, we hadn’t seen any like this before. We made it to another expensive camp ground with seedy showers and flimsy, pink plastic curtains. These things are noticeable but at the end of the day, who really cares? The essential is that you can have a shower, cook, feel safe and top up drinking water before heading off in the morning. The rest just simply isn’t important anymore. The liberation is exhilarating. Socrates was a genius.
We had another very nice and inexpensive vegetarian dish tonight for dinner – couscous, feta, mushrooms, zucchini, cabbage and chestnuts – which was prepared while meeting our new Hungarian friend, Kornel. Tomorrow we will travel together to Ljubijana. It’s his first solo long distance bike trip and after sharing a number of stories, experiences and tips, he asked if he could join us in our travels. We were very excited to be able to have that type of an experience and he seemed like the perfect soul to do it with. He referred to collecting memories. That’s precisely what we do. We exchanged stories of missed opportunities to be hospitable. Kornel told us about the crazy 70 year old rider from Kansas and Xavier’s Japanese guy looking for a camping spot in Sydney!
What a great entry into Slovenia. The people here seem to talk more, engage more. It was the first time we received beeps of encouragement and thumbs up from car windows since France. At the camping ground we met another Australian although he’s been living in Moscow for such a longtime and having a wonderful time in Europe.
Tomorrow we will travel together with Kornel to Ljubijana. Our first travel compangnion ever.
Sunday 1 September
We woke up and set off relatively early after saying our goodbyes to the Australian and French people we meet and were on the road to Ljubijana. We rode through the cute little streets of Celje which had Italian influenced architecture. All of a sudden the Mediterranean seems to be feeling closer. The choice of pot plants, the colours. We could feel that we’re getting closer to Italy, which filled us with excitement and joy.
We rode through some very pretty and hilly landscapes but on shit roads shared with, for the most part, crappy drivers. We had an impressive uphill before lunch with beautiful butterflies fluttering alongside and in front of us as we rode alongside thick, fresh greenery. Memories from Taiwan came back to us with a constant harassement of motorbikes going way too fast around the curving, mountainous roads. Of course they are here for that. There was one that almost lost control but saved him or herself by crossing over into the other lane. Luckily for him/her and us another vehicle wasn’t coming in the opposite direction.
We rode through seriously muddy terrain. Lisa came off at the worst possible time and stepped ankle deep in mud. We rode and rode and rode. It was a tough day as was to be expected from this mountainous country. We had hoped to get to Ljubijana today but we just didn’t have it in us so we decided that it was going to be a wild camping night. We did prepare for this in the morning and bought some extra supplies for dinner just in case. We did well.
We found a spot next the the Sava River in Jevnica. As we were entering the green bush there was someone who was staring at us through their window. Kornel knew that this meant that there would be a possibility that someone might pay us a visit later. Lisa was confused by it but as Xavier reminded us, although it looked like a publicly accessible place, it was more than likely privately owned as are most of these spaces in Europe. It’s one of the things that really lets Europe down generally. All these beautiful spaces possessed by individuals seems wrong. When we finally got into a clearing we walked around, determined where we could set up camp for the night and made our way over to the water. It was the only river we have had any desire to take a dip in, but doing so would have meant being dinner for the mosquitoes. We decided not to pitch any tents until just before nightfall, in case someone did show up to kick us out, so we focused on putting out the tarp, making dinner and sharing more stories, much to the boys delight. The boys are loving Kornel. He has such a lovely manner with them.
The entire time we kept an eye out and then just before dinner as the sun was setting, this middle aged man came out of the bushes with a dog and a shot gun. He had been watching us for a while. He asked, rather confirmed that we were only here for one night, to which we responded ‘yes’. That was all he needed and disappeared as quietly as he had arrived. The dog was clearly a hunting dog able to make as little noise as possible. That done, we all felt so much more comfortable despite knowing we’ll be having a very uncomfortable, pasty night’s sleep. It would have been so nice to have a shower and wash of the sun screen and sweat. But tonight there was no option.
Monday 2 September
We were packing up our tents today when a tractor showed up in the clearing. At the same time a woman came out of the bushes with an axe hidden behind her back! Luckily we had all gone to our bush toilet before she showed up. It was a freakish, unsettling entry. Eventually she just got on with doing what she had to – chopping and collecting wood.
We had a short, nice ride into Ljubijana. Pedalling and talking with Kornel, we discussed the pleasure of writing where words shed light on memories, experiences, discoveries. Lisa shared the hope she had for her dad to tell his stories before he had a stroke, but that never happened. Lisa has found that the time it takes to write a proper entry is a ratio of 1:3 days. The impossibility of capturing all your thoughts, reflections, memories, dreams in a day as you ride. How your mind wanders and waves of memories fold, hang, over lap, collide, fuse, dissolve, reappear, bend, turn, crescendo – while simultaneously new memories are being collected. The freedom of a free mind on a bike versus the robotic servitude of a routine.
We rode to the castle and met a lovely driver for the Korean embassy. Our friend ran back to his car and came back with lollies. Memories of Japan came flooding back of all these wonderful people who feel it is a duty to care for pilgrims.
We descended to the hostel an hour before the storm. The fatigue from yesterday, the lack of sleep and the burning desire for a shower meant that we stood mesmerised before a huge crowd of students as we watched them write all over each other to celebrate the first day back at school for the year. Delirious, we waited for Xavier to give us the signal after he’d checked us in to the hostel. We were lucky that Xavier reserved a room yesterday because another couple on bikes showed up but clearly there was no room left and the storm was well and truly on its way. Who knows where they ended up but they looked as in need as we were.
While it poured and thundered outside, we treated ourselves to much needed showers, a change of clothes and a machine wash. We headed out for dinner and the one place we had been told to go to didn’t open until 8pm but there was no way we could wait that long so we ended up having to go to an awfully expensive tourist trap for a very mediocre dinner, although we were in good company.
Tuesday 3 September
When we left the hostel this morning we could feel something had changed. We were now on the cusp of autumn in this part of the world. It was cooler, slightly windy. The colors in the sky were a lighter, frostier blue. As we rode through the forests we could see the layer of brown leaves thickening up around the base of the trees and along the roadside. We had a similar feeling around Dillingen. We’re constantly running from the colder weather.
The aim is to get out of Slovenia as fast as possible although it seems we still need another night before we do. The ride was a difficult one today. We started off at 300 metres above sea level and climbed to just over 900 over 15kms. Nothing compared to Les Enfers but definitely required stamina. We met Anthea and Steve from Adelaide riding two Viventes from 2008. Apparently they had done a similar thing with their children. The country side was beautiful. Mountains covered with high altitude pines. There were moments where it felt normal to expect to see a bear.
We rode out of Ljubijana for breakfast because after last nights tourist rip off we were not prepared to be done over again. We found a nice little bakery about 10kms out that was great quality and reasonably priced. We bought enough for breakfast and lunch. The boys were hungry pretty much an hour after breakfast so it was a good thing that we stocked up. They were hungry half an hour after that too and there was still more available. Eventually we were getting closer to Postojna and discovered on the path these incredible lime stone caves that were once upon a time underwater rivers but the roof collapsed and exposed these incredibly cavernous gorges. We went around the first one and then went down the second. All the boys including Kornel went down to the very bottom.
First you descend steeply holding onto wooden railings on the left. These give way to a thick steel cable pinned into the rock face and that then gives way to a free flowing rope. Lisa was fine once she got beyond the rope section and was waiting for the boys to come back up, but then on the ascent she had an intense flashback to when she froze on the cliff face off the pinnacle next to Murwillimbah in 1994. She remembered the sheer cliffs on either side of the narrow path and the eagles hovering at eye level. The old experience heaved its way back from the deep. Deep inside a long forgotten sensory pocket and slammed head-on into this now – head spinning inducing vertigo. She only got her colour and breath back when back on the bike some 20 minutes later. Her gut was still wrenching as as we pedalled, overwhelmed and troubled by the invasive power of old memories
After a hideous ride on a road parallel to the highway which was supposed to also be a bike route that stupid drivers going way too fast and not leaving a good gap between us and them used as well, we made it close to the camp ground. We split off into two parties. Xavier and Arsène went to do the shopping for dinner tonight and Kornel, Léon, Oreste and Lisa went to the campsite to start setting up. We had another very nice vegetarian meal consisting of rice, zucchini, cauliflour, red beans, leek and slithers of lemon zest. We finished off what we bought from the bakery this morning too. There was plenty of food.
On the way to the camp ground and as we were preparing to split we saw three armed tankers turn the corner onto the road where we were. Rather imposing which left us all watching attentively in silence.
The rod on our tent snapped as we were preparing it. Xavier repaired it temporarily by wrapping duct tape around the split sharp section and then covered it with a metal rod section to protect the tent material from being ripped. Teachings from Japan. We camped on rocky ground which is not good for the very thin base of our tents. To avoid ripping or making holes in the base, Xavier and the boys scrapped back the surface to reveal dirt, then placed a folded tarp that was only as big as the base. You don’t want to lay it out beyond the limits of the tent in case it rains and then all the water pools under the base of the tent. That infamous lesson next to Sigmaringen. The tarp should be covered by the outer protective sheet of the tent in case it does rain in which case the water simply runs off the tent and into the ground.
Before going to bed and with headlights on we planned tomorrow’s route with Kornel. The mother of the family camping not far, came over. She was very excited and her desire was naively electric. She really wanted to be a part of it so we let her live out that dream, despite knowing she will be waving us goodbye as we head off tomorrow morning.
We will camp on the plateau just above Trieste tomorrow night before we descend the following morning via the city to start making our way to Venice. Tomorrow we will be in Italy. We are happy to be leaving Slovenia for no other reason apart from how expensive it is. Again tonight we paid the most we’ve ever paid on this trip which includes a tourist tax, despite the price sheet saying ‘all taxes included’. You get the feeling that you’re constantly being taken for a ride. I know Italy will be no better but at least the prices are more reasonable for both camping and food.
Wednesday 4 September
Last night was a typical autumn night in the hills. The wind blew through the tops of the pine trees, the tent gently shimmered and we were warm and comfy in our tents. Woke up with slightly dry lips and a desire to stay a little longer in the warmth of our tent. Today seems the right day to add an extra layer. The weather has definitely changed and we can feel autumn enter the room.
We stopped to look at the mountain that we have been seeing on the map for many, many months. It was there when we were in the living room at home in Randwick when we were planning this trip way back when. We stopped next to a field to take in this mass, where a farmer was working his brother’s field as we later found out. He asked if he could help us so Lisa asked him what the name of the mountain was. What came next, should have been recorded. He gave us the entire history and explained the geographical importance of the area. Notably he explained how the Nanos mountain is the climate demarcation between the Mediterranean and the Slovenian mountains
He explained the water sources in the region and how far they travel to the Sava to eventually join the Black Sea. His English was impeccable, his tone calm, his spirit very warm, his knowledge deep as was his willingness to share. He noted that Kornel was Hungarian and spoke about his father who was part of the Hungarian and Italian armies. It would have been perhaps prying to know in what capacity.
We left and started riding with death on the way towards the Italian border. We rode alongside crazy oblivious Slovenian drivers. A semi-trailer came within a metre of us. Lisa was so angry. In protest she screamed and raised her left hand, her bike swerved, she almost lost control. A little more and she could have ended up under those big ugly rubbery dirty tyres probably going to the local quarry. We were nervous about what this meant as far as sharing the road with Italian drivers. Is it getting worse here because we’re heading into Italy? Is this what we can expect? We must leave Slovenia behind – as fast as possible.
We had a beautiful descent on the other side of the Nanos mountain. The road looked a lot like Australia – the longer straight roads with little bumps, with green bushes on either side. The colours were different. Warmer. An orange veil seemed to colour this side of the world. There is definitely a sense of the Mediterranean.
We stopped to eat in a local park for lunch before crossing the border. Xavier had an argument with an idiot delivery van who came way too close yet again. We ended up on a dirt track which was a welcomed relief. So glad to be away from cars. The track was bumpy but green. Perfumed. Up high we could see Nanos which looked so far away now. We stayed with it for a while. Like an old friend, thanking it for its guidance and bidding it adieu. It was a deeply satisfying sense of connection that filled the guts. The perfume, the view. It was important to stop and acknowledge such a pure sense.
We came in to Italy through a back gravel bushy track from Slovenia which was fantastic. Without knowing although sensing we had crossed the magic boundary, we were welcomed by many butterflies and greenery, rugged bush path and warmth. Just delicious. We were so elated to be in Italy. It was so special with Kornel. He has well and truly become part of the family. We cheered and even the train in the distance tooted along with our cheers. We slept on the plateau overlooking Trieste. It’s beautiful up here.
Thursday 5 September
What an amazing day. We descended the plateau into Trieste which was a good 7km descent and on arriving close to sea level it warmed up significantly. We stopped at a pasticceria and were ripped of one focaccia, although that may have had to do more with the amount of coffee the person behind the counter had drunk than anything else. She was going at triple time – answering phones, heating up focaccia, making a coffee, asking people for their money. Amazing – you are either charged a different price to what the website says (Oreste was meant to be half the price at the camping ground but for some reason he paid adult price) or you are given less than what you ordered and charged for it. Impressed by the performance of the barrister, we continued our downhill descent to Adriatic Sea level, rather the Gulf of Trieste.
We were all taken by the diversity of the religious places of worship in such a small city – there was an incredibly large synagogue on our arrival, followed by an Orthodox Church followed by catholic and that was only what we came across. The mood is relaxed, confident, high on coffee and just feels really good. We rode towards Grado leaving closer to midday so set off fairly late.
The drivers here are surprisingly better than thought. We thought based on experience that the Italians would be the worst but that prize goes to the Swiss followed by the Slovenians. The best have been the French and if things keep going the Italians might follow.
We rode a life-giving, breathtakingly beautiful stretch around the coast with the wind pushing us, the Adriatic Sea on one side, beautifully rugged cliffs on the other. We rode through naturally formed limestone tunnels over the roads much to all our delight. Such an uplifting architecture that makes even roads look romantic. There was another family that joined us on the road for a very short stretch and we exchanged some words of encouragement. We rode, we breathed, we relished. It was glorious to be alive right at that moment. Wind, even against us, made us feel alive. Every sense organ awake. It was too good to be true. A few kilometres on, we saw a white van parked on the right and the mother of the family we briefly rode with just earlier was standing there with a big smile on her face. As we got closer she handed Lisa a note with their contact details offering us to stay with them if we were to travel by their town. She was just awesome. Such a beautiful gesture. It was a bit like the Tour de France moment when riders collect bottles from people on the roadside and exchange a few words. We kept moving because we still had a while to go.
We were flying.
We eventually made it to a supermarket where we bought lunch – bread rolls, tomatoes, basil and mozzarella as well as these very strange grapes that were a fusion of red grapes with strawberries flavour. We then headed for to the nearest bathing spot where we delighted in watching a guy jump off the jetty and his dog following straight on his heels. We dipped and ate, soaked in the warmth of the sun, dipped and ate some more before getting back on our bikes. We wet our shirts to keep us cool for the hill we had to get up.
Back on the road the plan was to ride to Grado and camp in Aquiliea where the camping was cheaper. What an incredible ride. We had a 180 degree view of the Alps in the distance that stretched from France to Switzerland to Austria and Slovenia. Nanos was there the whole time too. Just incredible. The boys were able to locate where we were based on that and recalled memories of when we were ‘on the other side’ in Switzerland just after leaving Bern. The most magical scenery to behold – surrounded by these incredible mountains, while riding through the lagoons of Grado. It just can’t be more enlightening than this.
We are all really enjoying the Italian language. The boys are like parrots and said that they prefer learning languages on a bike instead of in a book. As we were riding on a very nice bike path, the boys realised it was lined with rosemary and lavender. They collected branches and rubbed it in there hair as they rode bare foot without shirts and helmets. They oozed a sense of innocence, freedom and confidence that makes life worth living. Not even the maternal instinct to protect them was more powerful.
We arrived to the camping ground via a pine tree lined bike path just a few metres away from ancient Roman sites and an ancient basilica that we will visit tomorrow. The boys pitched the tents, Lisa got dinner ready and we all enjoyed a rice, mushroom, lentil, egg, cream, garlic and onion hearty dish with peaches and yoghurt for dessert.
We love Kornel. We are all starting to feel sad about his eventual departure. He’s become part of the family. He was even teaching the boys maths yesterday. We are going to miss him so very much. We’ve never had this experience before but it has been just incredible. It feels like we have known one another for ever.
Friday 6 September
We went from one of the best days yesterday to the worst day today. It started off fairly pleasantly with a casual chat with a man from Milano. We didn’t end up leaving the camp ground until 11 because Xavier had to do a complete change of Lisa’s gear cable which looked like it had been chewed by a rat.
After that we went to see the WHS listed basilica in Aquileia which had the most incredible mosaic floor. We travelled along what used to be the old port of Aquileia before we finally got on the road for the day. It was already very late – midday and we still had 60kms to do. The tension was brewing because that would mean arriving at a camp ground very late, having a late dinner and late getting to bed and after the very long days and little sleep we’d been having it was not a good plan.
Anyway, we continued and had the pleasure of riding by some plantations which were so perfectly aligned that it looked like there were cathedrals at the end of every corridor.
Just before we got to the town of Carlitos we could see lighting and thunder strike just above us. When the wind came, we decided to stop at the church because we knew the rain wasn’t too far. The boys spotted the veranda of an abandoned block of apartments which we perched ourselves on and made lunch while it rained … and rained. By the time we were finished the rain still hadn’t stopped so we put our wet weather gear on and got back on the road because we knew more rain was coming, and heavier, around 7pm. We had to be at the next camping ground before then.
Lisa and Xavier started to argue about the ambitiousness of the kms today, the conditions and the fatigue we were already feeling. Xavier insisted on riding, irrespective, to make sure we get to the camping ground in time. Lisa was not confident that we would make it in time. We continued to roll. A few kilometres in and feeling somewhat delirious already, we all stared at the scene in front of us not really apprehending its reality. It was only when Kornell said ‘oh no!’ That we all silently acknowledged it was real. A car had flipped probably several times and rolled into a ditch that was just in front of someone’s home. The car window was smashed. The driver behind an air bag couldn’t be seen. Confused people were standing around, phones in hand, waiting for an ambulance. Death seemed to be sweeping the area.
Some 20 kms out from our destination Lisa was almost killed – twice. Riding on an already busy road, we were distracted by a guy in a Maserati trying to convince us that we couldn’t go down the road we were about to turn left onto, despite the fact that it had the EuroVelo route number and symbol on it. It was a dangerously stupid distraction.
As the only one able to speak the language, Lisa was trying to understand what was going on but because she was at the back of the group, missed the cue to ‘go now’ on the busy road. At that point there was a huge semitrailer coming up behind Lisa. The driver thought she was going to go with the group but she didn’t because of the oncoming cars on the other side of the road, meaning that the semitrailer passed some 40cms from her at a good 60kms. The wind forced her heavy bike to lean so far left that it was almost on the ground and on the other side of the road in the way of oncoming traffic. She lifted her bike back upright to take off and turn left when all of a sudden there was a black car coming full speed around the bend which Lisa didn’t see because the semi-trailer had swerved in front of her blocking her view of oncoming traffic. Lisa pushed off on her bike as hard and fast as she could but screamed when she saw the car coming full speed towards her. The car must have slammed their brakes on. When she got to the other side and arrived to the rest of the team who were waiting for her, Kornell was the only one to have witnessed what had just happened and said ‘Thank god you’re alive!’
The rest of that road along with boggy dirt tracks and gravel tracks was shit, even though we did get to see snakes in the canals and crayfish on the road. By then, all Lisa could think about is how shit it would be for her sister to have to tell her mum that she was dead.
We continued. Made it to the supermarket just before reaching the camping ground and Arsène slammed into Xavier’s bike because he was deliriously tired and completely taken by the flashing lights, the bustling street life and gelato bars. In the twilight drizzle we pulled out the arnica and did what we could. Poor Arsène… we all felt so bad that he got hurt.
We got to the camping ground shortly after but by this stage we were caught in the massive storm we knew was coming. Léon and Oreste came up with the clever idea of pitching the tents under the tarp to avoid the inside of the tents getting wet. That was an enlightening moment. Filled with hope. We did it and got completely soaked in the process, despite having our wet weather gear on. 45 minutes later the tents were pretty much done. The boys deliriously, wet, cold, hungry and tired were fumbling about in the showers so Lisa had to herd them and take them to the restaurant in the camp ground. Arriving like drowned rats, we ate very good pizzas and pasta. Unfortunately for us, although potentially entertaining for others, Lisa and Xavier started talking about the day which soon turned into an argument and became the main feature. It ended with Lisa stomping out, headed straight for a shower and bed. The boys were left speechless. To make matters worse, we all know tomorrow is the day we part ways with Kornel.
Saturday 7 September
We took off from what became a sunny camp spot knowing that we’ve only got until 3pm to be at the next camping ground before the next round of heavy rains kick in. The boys made a fabulous Roman walled city in the sand. Their environment is speaking through them. They are completely open vessels and will carry these memories forever. We headed for Marina Di Cortelazzo which is where we would say our goodbyes.
We decided that we would have lunch together before separating so we stopped at a local supermarket which strangely had only half its shelves stocked. As we made our way through the aisles, we were struck by the beer and wine bottles featuring Hitler, Mussolini and Che Guevara. I took a photo and the woman in the store immediately screamed out ‘No photo! No photo!’ Why would you agree to sell these products and not allow people to take photos? The undertone of secrecy behind the response was troubling. Or is it that there are people out there that are entertained by the prospect of buying into celebrating right wing, ultra nationalist attitudes that pride themselves on making others fear and loathe them. Here, like elsewhere, there are fascists well and truly thriving, but here the availability of fascist paraphernalia welcomes those types of tourists to feel comfortable and safe at the expense of so many others. It’s unsettling to think that in this part of Italy, there are so many German speaking tourists that everything is written in Italian and German. As we’re getting closer to Venice, English is creeping in. We are reminded that fascism doesn’t have linguistic boundaries.
We had lunch by the seaside. It was a dull, used, tired seaside. The water was grey, the tame waves seemed beaten, sad or perhaps tired, the landscape was bereft of any greenery and felt like it could be on the edge of an industrial site. Nonetheless, children played and splashed. The food came out and we were surrounded by aggressive wasps. It’s so difficult to have lunch or dinner outdoors in Europe without being set upon by wasps. Where there is food there are wasps. Some are less aggressive than others but you always have to be so careful. The boys have been playing games with them, creating ‘restaurants’ for them, letting them crawl all over their hands, arms, legs and in some instances faces! But unfortunately today Kornel was stung. Luckily he’s not allergic. We had really hoped that Kornel would stay on until Venice but he really had no interest in going there. We eventually packed up and after a teary goodbye we went our seperate ways. It didn’t quite feel the same without him. We all rode quietly, feeling less full.
As we were getting closer to the expensive camp ground that Lisa called this morning, she took interest in an Agricamping sign so went to have a look. We ended up pitching our tent in this camping ground for the next two nights which is so much nicer than the hideous camping village fun parks and for almost half the price. The boys were really annoyed because all they wanted to do was jump in a pool. At least we were able to stick to our budget today. The owners of the camp ground and a few of the other campers were curious about what we were doing, so we struck up a number of conversations which provided a much appreciated exchange with others.
Sunday 8 September
We took our time getting out and ready. We were all wondering how far Kornel had made it last night and how he was after going from a peloton of 6 to 1. It would certainly be more difficult for him.
It was a slight relief to not have to fold house and home this morning and it was nice to get dressed in other clothes aside from our riding gear. We walked to Punta Sabbioni to catch the ferry to Venice and had some time to do a little window shopping. A real tourist trap. We found ourselves making a long list of all the things we’d buy. Luckily the thought of transporting them put us off, as did where all these beautiful shells were mined from. We eventually got on the ferry, had a quick history lesson of Venice with the boys and in no time we were greeted by Piazza San Marco and its winged lions. The intensely powerful expressions of the female personification of a subjugated Venice with the lion chewing chains at her feet. We walked into the last minutes of a church service much to the boys delight. For them, it is an other worldly experience and yes, it’s understandable why at their impressionable age they would be overcome by these large caves, filled with symbols from one of the best narratives ever written, apparent only to those who are devout to these places where ordinary people are transformed into unwavering apostles.
We walked all day looking for Palazzo Moro to see Valery’s exhibition that Tony curated, but despite asking the locals in the area – we missed. Nobody, not even google, could take us there. We ate disappointingly dry arancini in the Jewish corner, a sign of the stingyness off the chef too afraid to put the required egg and cheese to achieve a more wholesome, voluptuous experience, and then went to see a few of the pavilions of the Venice biennale. Feeling underwhelmed, we decided to move onto a more detailed exploration of San Marco. We got more out of seeing the Tintorettos, Bellinis and the architecture than what we did from the contemporary art which seemed to be pure self indulgence for the most part that struggles to move the soul in any meaningful direction.
We were feeling a bit cold, wet and over the tourist experience, even though there were moments of magic, but none moreso than the person with personal objects put on her window seal with a cardboard sign offering the objects at whatever price the potential buyer saw fit, which would allow the person to buy much needed medicine. As we were moving towards the ferry and much to all of our surprise, Arsène found Kornel! In one of the busiest and most crowded places in all of Venice. Despite the rain, he came hoping he would find us. Even more uncanny is that Arsène took a photo and without knowing it Kornel was in his photo way in the distance amongst a sea of other tourists. Unfortunately, we spent very little time together because we had to jump back on our boat to get back to the camping ground for an early dinner and early to bed because tomorrow we start at 6am in order to make the boat trip to the Lido.
We had a nice dinner, although the ‘sit down’ tax was more expensive than the pizza! That’s one thing that is incredibly off putting about this place – all the crappy surcharges for what is simply a necessity. Just like pissing. Vespian invented the madame pipi and the Italians continue to charge for what seems a given. You can’t eat dinner if you don’t sit. It’s very tempting to try standing around a dinner table in a restaurant in Italy as a performance piece.
Oreste wants to speak Italian so Lisa has started to speak with him as of today. It will be interesting to see how much they will retain as a result of the next few weeks here. We got to bed early but we’re woken up by a pretty impressive thunderstorm. Lightning cut the power momentarily in the campground which was perfect.