European Circle Tour Part 4: To Lean is Divine

So, I've landed in Tuscany, in Florence, and I'm talking about leaning. I'm sure almost all of my readers will have already guessed what happened next. It was, of course, a day trip to Pisa.

 

It's a popular day outing from Florence, taking as little as 50 minutes each way by frequent and comfortable trains, and costing just €9.30 each way. Now for the trick. The Florence-Pisa-Livorno route functions as a kind of self-contained unit within the larger Trenitalia national network. It has its own ticketing procedure. You can book tickets ahead of time online. You can buy them from ticket machines at the station. Or, you can simply tap a card as you get on and as you get off. Here's the machine, photo taken on my return trip:

 

The silver tap area for cards in the centre is easy. Paper tickets have to be inserted into the black slot under the tap area, and then withdrawn after being stamped and punched, in order to be valid. Is the black thing at the bottom where you scan a QR code on your phone if you paid in advance online? I'm not sure. The point is, whichever way you are travelling, you need to validate at the machine on the platform before you get on the train. If you don't, you are laying yourself open to the possibility of a hefty fine when a ticket inspector comes by and checks. When, not if. My trains were checked by inspectors both outbound and return. If you are tapping your card, you of course have to tap at another machine after you get off.

 

The challenge was to find a machine at Florence station, in the boarding area for these local region trains, that was working. I had a paper ticket, stuck it into the machine once -- and then again -- and then again, and nothing happened.I finally walked up to an agent on the platform, and he validated it by hand. By the time he had done that, six more people were waiting with the same problem. Ah, technology!

 

Although the morning train was well filled, it was a smooth and comfortable trip. We stopped at two stations on the way to Pisa Centrale. Some of the slower trains stop a good deal more often.

 

And then we arrived in Pisa, and it was time to get out and walk. The first site, in a piazza just north of the station, is this statue of King Victor Emmanuel II. Somehow it seems a trifle disrespectful to plonk down a Ferris wheel right there. The second picture takes a slightly more solemn viewpoint. Slightly.

 

 

After leaving the piazza, it was a simple matter to walk more or less due north along streets lined with old apartment buildings, some with stores or restaurants on the ground floor. 

 

 

This first half of the walk continued until I ran into the banks of the Arno -- the same river as in Florence, here approaching its mouth. In fact, Pisa was founded as a seaport on the shore of the ocean, and has gradually lost ground to all the silt poured out every year by the Arno's boisterous waters. It's now nine kilometres inland.

 

Right away, it's impossible to miss the extra height of boards backed by sandbags on the riverside wall. The Arno had one of its dangerous floods just last month after a period of steady and intense rain when the ground in the mountains to the east was already saturated.

 

 

I had to detour a few hundred metres to the west here to reach a bridge. On the way, I came to this delicately beautiful structure, all in the pale grey local marble: the church of Santa Maria della Spina (Saint Mary of the Thorn). The name derives from a relic, long kept here, which was believed to be a thorn from the Crown of Thorns forced onto Jesus' head during his suffering before the crucifixion. The relic is now housed elsewhere.

 

Crossing the nearby bridge gave me a first chance to see the waters of the Arno. I was impressed to think that this broad river could rise up in a matter of hours to the tops of the walls along the riverbank.

Continuing straight on beyond the bridge, I passed on the right the entrance to the Botanical Garden, pausing only long enough to lean in a snap a couple of quick pictures.

 

Beyond the gardens, it took me about 10 more minutes to reach the open space around the Cathedral, a space often called the Piazza dei Miracoli, although its formal name is Piazza del Duomo. Here's an internet photo which gives a panoramic view of the whole complex.

 

Photo/Map: Arne Müseler / arne-mueseler.com / CC-BY-SA-3.0 / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/de/deed.de

The four buildings are shown below in this order: the Baptistery, the Monumental Cemetery, the Cathedral or Duomo, and of course the world-famous bell tower. 

 

 

 

The admission charges to the various buildings are scaled more or less by popularity, with the admission to the Tower being greater than all the others combined. Surprise, surprise. Fair warning: you need to book reservations well in advance if you've always wanted to climb the tower. Numbers are kept small because of the narrow and steep curving staircases. The revenue from the admission charges is used to maintain all the buildings in the complex, a very expensive task.

Because of the loose, spongy soils (silt from the Arno, remember?), all the buildings in the complex have settled or tilted at least a bit. The tower has just been more diligent at settling and tilting than its companions. In the 1990s, it had reached an extreme tilt of 5.5 degrees, leaving its future in doubt, particularly following the sudden collapse of a tower in another town. A lengthy and expensive remediation project removed all the bells, anchored the tower firmly during the work with steel stay cables, and lowered the high side with the removal of soil, reducing the tilt to 3.97 degrees. Incidentally, for the first time since detailed observations have been taken, the tower has stopped moving -- a definite good sign. But that tilt still makes a lot of people nervous. 

Just kidding. I thoroughly enjoyed my visit.

 

 

 

It was enjoyable not least because I devoted my time here to prospecting for the fascinating details, sculptural and otherwise, incorporated into these buildings. This sculpture appears above the entrance of the Monumental Cemetery.

Mosaic artwork above two of the doors of the Cathedral.

And two quite different sculptured columns:

 

 

Photos which I've seen of the interiors show that the same intricacy of design and decoration pervades every inch of all the structures. It makes some of the great cathedrals of northern Europe and the United Kingdom look sombre and plain by comparison.

 

In a way, it's a pity that I passed on the admission charges to at least the Baptistery and the Duomo, where I could have enjoyed more artistic riches. My younger self would have loved to climb the Tower, but that's no longer as big a Big Deal as it would have been way back when. 

 

But Pisa had one more grand surprise for me. As I was leaving the Piazza dei Miracoli, I was more than a little hungry -- ravenous, in fact. I got an outdoor table in one of the restaurants right on the short pedestrian street which leads to the entrance gate. I know -- in a location like that, it has to be a tourist trap, right? Well, you be the judge. I was browsing the wines by the glass, at prices from €12 to €15, and then I spotted it: the house white or red wines at €10 for a half litre! It wasn't schlock, either. In Europe, a "house" wine is often a personal pick of the owner or manager, usually local or regional, and very much not  from the bottom shelf. I don't know if any of that was the case here, but the house white wine accorded perfectly with my tastebuds!

 

Toss in a bottle of water, and a dinner-plate-size pizza quattro formaggi which stood comparison with the best I've ever had, anywhere. This place actually got the thin crust completely crisp, all the way from the rim to the centre. That's an art form in itself for you! And then there was the bill for all that deliciousness: a mere €29, including tax and service. Well worth every penny.

 

And just to underline the point that there's more than one treasure in Pisa, I caught a glimpse of this on the way back to the station to return to Florence.

 

European Circle Tour Part 3: Not Just Another Train Trip

For the next leg of the trip, I travelled from Geneva to Florence by train. This is not just your typical train trip. I've been over a large part of the route in Switzerland before (many, many years ago) but had never experienced any of the Italian portion of the route. For sheer variety of scenic experience, from serene lakes to towering mountains and ancient castles, this train ride is hard to beat.

 

Before we get down to the actual trip, there are a few key details you have to know. First, reservations. Advance reservations are mandatory for all international trains, and for all premium-priced high-speed rail lines in Europe (as far as I know). Fortunately, none of these trains were heavily sold on the day I travelled so you could have bought a day-of-travel ticket and gotten seats with no trouble.

 

Second: the train I chose, at 1:25 pm, was the only direct train running all the way from Geneva to Milan. Many other options exist, either by changing trains to the northeast, or by riding this route as far as Brig and then changing trains there before crossing the border into Italy.

 

Third: why go first class? The big Number One for vacationers like yours truly is that First Class gets the same amount of luggage storage space (or more) for fewer passengers. Generally, on second class cars, you get less storage space and more people. For once, luggage space was not a problem on these particular trains.

 

Fourth: buy in advance to get the best reserved seats. I started checking a little more than six months ahead. The Italian high-speed train network, called Frecciarossa ("Red Arrow"), goes on sale six months in advance. By diving in right then, I probably got a lower fare, but what really mattered was that I got to choose exactly the type of seat I wanted for the Milan to Florence leg: single seat, airplane style (meaning I'm facing a seat back and not another person), and facing forwards -- in the quiet section. The train out of Geneva to Milan, a "Euro Cities" train operated by the Swiss National Railway, did not allow for me to choose specific seating, but I was assigned to a single face-to-face pair, and luckily had it all to myself with my reservation being for the seat facing forwards. That one went on sale about 75 days out from the date of travel.

 

Fifth: First Class on the Euro Cities train (as on most Swiss trains) does not include any catering service. There is a paid restaurant car right next to the First Class cars, and Swiss restaurant cars are famous for the quality of the offerings. The alternative is to bring your own. The Geneva station has a number of take-out outlets. Italy's Frecciarossa offers a light snack and drink in First Class.

 

One last quirk about Frecciarossa: like some of the other premium high-speed services in Europe, this one has a third class of service. Executive (business) Class is actually the top class -- higher than First Class in price, service, and amenities, which is the opposite of what I and many other North Americans might expect. 

Now, the actual trip: the train set which awaited me in Geneva's Cornavin Station was this type:

 

Kabelleger / David Gubler (http://www.bahnbilder.ch) - Own work: http://www.bahnbilder.ch/picture/8949

 

That picture shows the train en route to Italy on the exact line which I travelled. This Swiss train is specifically designed for international service, to fit within the height and width limits of each country's rail network, and to be able to operate with multiple electrical current levels. Here's a map to show our route.

 

 Base map:  Google Maps

 

The first leg of the journey follows the curving northern shore of Lac Léman. As the map shows clearly, the south shore is almost entirely in France. At first you pass through suburban communities linked to Geneva, then farm country appears. (by the way, many of these pictures have ghost reflections from the window glass on them)

 

 

If you're seated on the right side, occasional views of the lake and the Alps on the south shore appear.

 

 

After Lausanne, as the mountains on the north side crowd down to the lake, field crops give way to terraced vineyards, set at an angle which suggests the vineyard workers might actually be mountain goats.

 

 

Keep your eyes open if you're seated on the right side. After the train leaves Montreux there's a chance for a momentary glimpse of the famous Chateau de Chillon down on the lake shore.

 

Beyond the end of the lake, the train follows the valley of the Rhone River southwards. Mountains are now rising on either side, the higher summits still very much snow-capped in May.

 

 

At  Martigny, the valley, the river, the highway, and the railway all execute an almost exact ninety degree turn to the east.

 

 

The train stops at the city of Sion where you can spot this castle on the left side for a few brief moments (between the industrial buildings along the tracks). It's called Place Maurice-Zermatten. Above and behind it to the left is the even higher hilltop holding the ruins of the Chateau de Tourbillon.

 

 

As the valley gradually gets narrower, the train passes Visp, where the connecting narrow-gauge train to Zermatt departs. Visp is also the south end of the 34.5-kilometre Lötschberg Basis Tunnel, which brings high speed trains from Basel and Bern through the Bernese Alps and into the Rhône Valley. Above Visp, and all along the valley from here to Brig, up on the mountainside you can see the parallel rail line descending from the original Lötschberg Tunnel, which is much shorter but involves a long and difficult climb for trains from either direction to reach the tunnel entrances. 

 

 

Why did the railways come here at all? The answer is at the next stop, Brig, where you get a final glimpse of the Rhône River, now a brawling mountain stream, laden with glacial silt.

 

 Final glimpse? Indeed. As soon as the train leaves Brig, it veers to the right and plunges into the Simplon Tunnel. This internet photo shows the dual North Portal entrances to the twin tunnels. 

 

Photographer: Armin Kübelbeck, CC-BY-SA, Wikimedia Commons

 

This passage beneath the Lepontine Alps was the first railroad link between Switzerland and Italy. From its opening in 1906 until 1982, it was by a good margin the longest tunnel in the world. It's just shy of 20 kilometres long (about 12.3 miles) and this train whips through it in a mere 8 minutes. As soon as we emerge out of the southern portal, at Iselle di Trasquera, we immediately slow down -- and run through two more tunnels. The valley of the Torrente Diveria (Diveria Stream), which we are now following downhill, is both narrow and steep.

 

The railway builders had to construct a total of nine additional tunnels, including a two-kilometre long spiral, to descend this valley at a manageable grade. By the way, I had no idea we were going through a spiral tunnel -- just that we were in the dark for a while because, of course, we were no longer going at top speed. What I was conscious of  was that we were going downhill very steeply for a conventional railway train. Finally the valley broadens out, the Diveria joins the River Toce, and we arrive at Domodossola. 

 

 

This is the border station, and I got a bit of a surprise here. Remember the Schengen Agreement which is supposed to make it possible to travel between all member countries without any customs checks? Guess again. We were told that there would be a crew change (to an Italian crew from Trenitalia), but the train was also boarded by Italian customs agents. We all had to show our passports and some of us had to answer questions. I was not expecting that. 

 

 From Domodossola, the train continues nonstop to Milan. A fair stretch of this line runs through woods and small towns all along the western shore of 64-kilometre long Lago Maggiore (Greater Lake). Even on a cloudy day with spitting rain showers, it's easy to see why this is such a popular vacation area for Italians and tourists from abroad. I'd welcome the chance to spend some time there myself.

 

  

 

From there on it was fast and level running through farm lands and suburbs until we arrived in Milan at Milano Centrale. I was impressed, to say the least, that we had completed the journey of 4 hours and 25 minutes within one minute of our scheduled arrival time. That left me just 19 minutes to find my connecting train to Florence, which was not as daunting as it sounds. I found it, four platforms over from the one where I arrived, and was all aboard and settled with 10 minutes to spare.

 

Here's a photo of a Frecciarossa R1000 train set on the Milano-Venezia service. I think this was the same type I rode in, although I can't be sure.

 

Photo by Moliva on Wikimedia Commons.

 

I didn't take any more pictures on this second train, partly because it was moving so quickly (blurring the scenery) and partly because there isn't any scenery. This is a genuine high-speed line, and much of the track is enclosed by walls or embankments to avoid excess noise in surrounding areas. After Bologna, when we turned south towards Florence, the train spent most of the next 40 minutes in tunnels. The Frecciarossa avoids the physical challenges of the Appennine Mountains by simply drilling under them.

 

The bad news? This flagship train arrived in Florence 9 minutes late! Naughty, naughty.

 

The good news? The first class on Frecciarossa, unlike the Euro Cities train from Switzerland, included a light snack and choice of drink, plus a bottle of water. The snack was a small ham and cheese on a bun. The attendant gave me two. I did not object. For a drink, I had a good dose of a strong Italian red wine. Together those two held me over for a late dinner in Florence at 9 pm.

 

 

European Circle Tour Part 2: Paris in the Alps

After a 75-minute flight down from London, I've been enjoying the last few days getting to know a bit of the one major city in Switzerland that I've never visited before: Geneva.   

 

Geneva is Switzerland's second-largest city, and the chief city of the French speaking region of western Switzerland. That French cultural and linguistic connection helps to explain why so much of Geneva ends up looking like it was lifted out of the same architectural studios that shaped so much of modern Paris.

 

Having said that, though, Geneva (or Genève, to give it its proper title) is actually not in the Alps at all, even if those magnificent summits are within easy viewing distance on a clear day. In my two full days in the city, the higher terrain of the Alps was generally hidden in clouds, except for one glorious moment early on the second day when all the peaks -- including Mont Blanc, the highest mountain in all of Europe west of the Caucasus -- shone out clearly behind the closer and lower mountains. The view was taken from the 11th floor of my hotel, looking almost directly in the direction of the sun. Hence the "sun ghost" in the picture.

 

 

The city sits on a fairly level and sizable tract of agricultural land around the western end of Lac Léman (often called in English "Lake Geneva"), at the point where the lake empties out into the Rhône River on its way to the Mediterranean Sea. This makes Geneva a near-ideal city for walking, as hills of any size are rare, with one striking exception.

 

It's also an ideal city for visiting due to its extensive public transit network. The regional transit authority operates thousands of buses and trams over a massive network which even extends into France to serve suburban communities there. My hotel (which is near the airport) offers a free transit pass for the duration of your stay to all guests -- and the tram stop to ride to the central station is just a block down the road.

 

Enough background --let's go for a walk and see how the comparison to Paris stacks up. Each city has its towering landmark. Paris, of course, has the Eiffel Tower, and Geneva has a fountain -- but what a fountain! 

 

 

With nothing nearby to give it scale, the Jet d'Eau in the middle of Lac Léman appears beautiful but not overly remarkable, until you realize that it is 150 metres tall, nearly half the height of the Eiffel Tower and the tallest landmark (watermark?) in the city. To reach that height, the water comes shooting out of the nozzle in the base at 200 kilometres per hour!

 

The rest of the central city gives more than a nod to Paris, with street after street of similarly-styled apartments, offices, and hotels, almost all of which fall somewhere in the 5-8 storey range (in Paris, the required height limit was for decades set at 6 storeys). What neither city has in its downtown core is anything in the way of skyscrapers.

 

 

More public buildings heighten the resemblance in other ways, with exterior sculptures and other features reminiscent of famous Parisian landmarks. 

Even a public washroom in a park achieves real architectural distinction, sadly not enhanced by graffiti.

 

 

The  Rhône River gives Geneva its companion to the Seine, although the bridges here are packed much more closely together. Two of these six bridges are reserved for pedestrians and cyclists.

 

 

Geneva's Basilica of Nôtre-Dame is much more modest than its Parisian counterpart. As the chief Roman Catholic church in the city, it is sometimes inaccurately described as a Cathedral. It cannot be a Cathedral as it is not the principal seat of a Bishop. The Bishop of Fribourg, Geneva, and Lausanne is based in Fribourg.

 

 

While a few streets in Geneva are blessed (?) with those lovely old fashioned cobblestones that can raise blisters on almost anyone's feet...

...there are also more modern features better adapted to safety. Ever found your shoes slipping on street markings on a wet day? These painted crosswalk bars are all grooved with swirling curved lines, to give excellent traction -- a useful feature when you have to run to avoid a charging tram! 

 

Actually, the tram operators and all drivers around Geneva are eminently civilized towards pedestrians and each other. I heard one driver honk their horn once during the two full days I spent in the city. It really startled me.

 

In the centre of the city, and a short walk up from the lake, you find the principal railway station, Gare de Cornavin. It has a distinguished main hall in the full height of Art Deco style.

 

Cornavin is the principal hub of the transit network. If your destination in the city isn't served by a direct tram or bus from Cornavin, you can get there with only one change of vehicle from here, and the numbers of the connecting lines are announced or displayed for every stop along the way.

On the south side of the river there rises a sizable hill which is the highest point of land in the central city. It's been fortified and occupied time out of mind, and some parts of the enclosing slopes have been shaped into cliffs. On the summit, you will find the oldest surviving parts of the city, including the great Cathedral of St Pierre. 

Here again the name "Cathedral" is a misnomer. It's a Protestant parish church and has been since the sixteenth century and the Calvinist Reformation, which is said to have begun on this hilltop. Like St. Giles Cathedral in Edinburgh, a Church of Scotland parish, the name "Cathedral" is retained here not to signify the seat of a Bishop, but to convey the historic dignity of the building. 

It's a stiff climb. First this long, straight hill on one of several narrow streets rising up from the Rue de Rive...

 

...and then you step through this narrow doorway, the Passage des Degres de Poules...

 

 ...and climb a long flight of eighty or so steps to reach the top of the hill. Here, you can walk through a narrow alleyway and a steeply-sloping cobbled square around the church, photographing it in bits and pieces from different angles.

 

 

 

When you step inside, you find the kind of cool, impersonal, undecorated environment which marks out the Protestant churches in many parts of Europe. In fact, I was surprised here, as at Basel, that the stained glass windows portraying saints had not been removed during the most doctrinaire heights of the Reformation. 

 

    

One other and most prominent landmark is worth mentioning. To the north of downtown, a short distance, can be found the large Ariana Park which encloses the headquarters for Europe of the United Nations. The most prominent building on this campus, the Palais des Nations, was the meeting venue for the original League of Nations after World War One. When the League failed due to its own structural weaknesses, the new United Nations after World War Two took up the use of the same property. It includes significant offices of some of the many U.N. agencies which try to tackle world economic disparity through all kinds of development programs which have nothing to do with blocking military action. The Nations park can be reached by Tram # 15 from Gare de Cornavin.

 

 

The word "Peace" displayed in the six official languages of the United Nations: English, French, Arabic, Chinese, Russian, and Spanish -- these being six of the most widely spoken languages on the planet.

 

 

Directly across from the main gate in the Place des Nations stands this striking wooden sculpture of a broken chair, intended to protest the use of cluster bombs and land mines which main thousands upon thousands of human beings.

 

 

 

 

 

Since Geneva is the watch capital of Europe and most makers of Swiss watches are headquartered here, it's not surprising that watch stores are a dime a dozen. The watches certainly are not.

 

Apologies for the blurring -- my phone doesn't like plate glass windows.

 

"But," I hear you ask, "what about all the kitschy, schlocky souvenir stores? Where are the Swiss flags? Where are the cuckoo clocks? Where are the Swiss Army Knives?  Where is the chocolate???" They're all on Rue des Alpes, the street which runs directly from Gare de Cornavin down to the promenade on the lake. Also on Rue des Alpes: the currency exchange shops, and the parking for tour coaches, You have been warned!

 

At the end of the Rue des Alpes, and facing the lake, is the Brunswick Monument. It shares with the Scott Memorial in Edinburgh the kind of ugliness that achieves true distinction, in a backhanded kind of way.

 

I was actually more taken with the fierce gryphons and lions that guarded the monument against all comers.

 

 

And finally, if you really want to know, my hotel gave me the answer to those questions about souvenirs on the night I arrived. Here's the hospitality gift they gave me:

 

The disguising label was so thoroughly detailed that I simply did not realize until I picked the "knife" up that it wasn't a knife at all, but a chocolate bar.