Welcome to the further adventures of Howard and Irene (handistravels)


Welcome to Handistravels (Howard And Irene's travels).

We're a senior Australian couple who love travel and, after we married in 2007, decided to do as much as possible (affordable). Howard has been around, Irene not so much. So to start, in 2010 Howard decided to introduce Irene to people he has met and places he has been to, with a few mutual friends and people Irene knew added in, we had a plan for nearly 20 weeks of travel.

We hit on the idea of writing a blog before we left on our first overseas journey on 12 February 2010. While Howard never managed to write a post, I had so much fun writing and keeping a history of that trip and our readers said that they enjoyed it just as much, that I decided each subsequent trip would be a continuation. While it would have been fun for me to simply continue blogging once we returned home, time and life defeated me - positively, I must add.

However, once we get back out on the road, the travel blog will come into its own again. Join us in 2017.

Exploring Zion

Exploring Zion
That's us in Zion National Park. We're overlooking the Angel's Landing (peak), possibly the best walk in the park

Tuesday, 25 September 2012

23 Sept - Across the Dolomites into Italy




Some More Stuff I’d Forgotten
XXXX - Thomas – is the name of Marie and Matthew’s son, my forgetfulness no doubt the result of more late night typing.

Sun Tan Studios – big business in the Scandinavian countries.  So many people with odd coloured skin walking around.  Quite a few of these places in the lower countries of our visits too.

On our last Friday morning in Grindelwald, before 6:00 am, we heard what we thought were three loud explosions down toward the village and were further surprised that no sirens followed.  HP later explained that it would have been hunters in Grindelwald, further reducing the chances of seeing deer in the woods.

The mountains in lower Austria are limestone.

Driving  through the Dolomites into Italy was interesting but as we had no reason to stop, we didn’t take photos until we were nearly through, and those that we did take are through the car window.  The high jagged peaks rolled past as the road wound mostly through narrow valleys.  Toll booths in Italy are damned stupid affairs and it appears at this point in time that no two will operate quite the same way.  The first one, it seemed you had to stick your credit card in a slot, punch a button and your card plus a ticked were spat out – maybe the credit card needn’t have been put in?  I was following the antics of the guy (Italian number plate) in front.  At the end of the toll road, if lucky we’d find a pay booth with a human to hand money to, or, once again shove a credit card into a slot and the boom gate springs open.  Highway speed limits change so rapidly it’s almost impossible to do the right thing and I think we were the only ones trying but since we are used to being overtaken by locals, we just continued at our own pace.

We made it to our first two nights’ stop with no trouble and checked in at the Country Club Country House.  More of a B&B type place than a full blown hotel, with is slightly eccentric characters running the place.  We were welcomed with a glass of whatever and we chose a Pinot Grigio, the right choice,as this has become our favourite white wine in Oz.  This one was lovely, went down so easily that Howard then ordered another while I went and had a swim in the 25m pool which was empty because it was “too cold for Italians to swim”.  There was one Mexican lady sunning herself on one of the deck chairs.  The weather to me was just perfect and the water as well.

They eat late in Italy and we were the first into the restaurant at 7.30pm.  Lisa, the welcome drinks and just about everything else lady, rattled off the menu and we managed to sort out some pasta then early to bed as we had a big day in Venice coming up tomorrow.

They do breakfasts differently here and more differently at the Country House I guess.  The excitable breakfast lady ordered us onto the terrace where it was cold so we got our fleeces and breakfast was a basket of bread with two near burnt croissants on top (we ate them anyway), yoghurt and coffee, which I declined.  Just as well we’d had a plate of fruit before going down stairs.

We then readied ourselves for the Venice onslaught.  Came down to reception and no person in sight!  Waited a few minutes, clearly not long enough in “no hurry” Italy, then walked up to the highway where we’d been told the bus stops were.  No bus stops!!  Across the two lane (one in each direction) highway and down the road was a bus stop.  We waited and then I re-read the timetable and decided the next one wasn’t coming for two hours so, back to the Country House where Howard started with “we are wasting our day”, the excitable hostess became more so and babbled on, barking at poor Lisa for not being there for us.  Anyway, we were given bus instructions, Lisa was ordered to drive us up again and she swore when she saw the road totally blocked by a grass cutter, but indicated that our stop was across the road and down about 50m.  We managed to cross the highway and stood precariously at the edge for 10 minutes or so, the bus being late and, flagged down the airport/Venice express, the driver of which took pity on us and scratched around for a ticket book – as we were supposed to have electronic tickets.  Plus the fare was €4.5 each, not the €1.50 our hostess told us.  Never mind, we were on and even found seats. 

The drive through outer Venice was boring and we could have been in any Indian city!!  The long bridge over to the islands exposed the industrial wasteland that hugs the mainland coast.  The first sight was the cruise ship port which was filled up with two gigantic towers of ships.

Off at the bus terminal, which once again could have been any Indian city – but with less garbage and we took our bearings, headed for the railway station (currently a building site) and information office – a temporary (I think) cubicle outside with a queue not quite a mile long, but we got on anyway and finally asked our questions and bought tickets on a ferry to the Rialto Bridge.  It was an eyeopener for sure.  At every wharf the boat would simply crash into the landing.  No-one seemed to care.  Lucky us on this first trip, we had seats and didn’t get knocked off our feet.  Graffiti on the bridge’s shop walls greeted us and about a million people draped over the walls taking pictures of themselves or each other.  We walked up the middle where the shops are and had a lot of fun looking in the windows.  Everyone seemed to sell pretty much the same things, with little variations, be it shoes, jewellery glass etc.  A bag shop caught my eye and suddenly I heard myself say “a girl can’t have too many handbags can she?”  Where did that come from?  Anyway, it didn’t cost too much.  Somehow we’d stopped at too many shops and bought too many souvenirs and gifts.

We walked and walked, looked and looked and got lost and decided to ask a local for directions to San Marco Piazza.  This well put together elderly gent, with not a word of English, personally (I remember that word) took us back to the Rialto and made directional signs for us to follow, which we did and with success.  St Mark’s was crowded over but now I can say I’ve seen it.  We’d have had no hope of a tour, there were so many people lined up, besides, we’ve now seen so many churches.  We found a park around the corner with a couple of empty benches where we stopped and ate our bread rolls before heading back toward the cruise ship terminal to meet up with Kim and Joe (my brother and his wife) who are now on a Princes Cruise in the Med.  We were in the railway station at an ATM when my phone rang.  There was some fun first with communications and a world of people and noises, me not hearing my phone and then not hearing a word Kim was saying when I did answer, but somehow I managed to let her know that we’d come over toward them via the “people mover”, a short sky train ride over the rubble of dockland Venice.  When we got off the train they were there to meet us.  Their cruise ship purser had told them we would come over that way!!

If we hadn’t had enough fun yet Kim and Joe set about tuning Venice on its ears.  We spent an enjoyable hour at a canal side trattoria recounting our various trips so far.  J & K having been on the road only about 10 days with a small group bus tour (first class) through Switzerland before joining their ship.  Joe wanted to see the Rialto so we went off on another walk and hardly got lost, except into some more shops because Kim was in the mood for shopping and I’d mentioned that I hadn’t seen any Murano glass sweets yet (I have a small collection at home) so when we did she insisted on enlarging my supply as an early Christmas present.  We returned to the bus station, with jokes flying around – Joe can’t help himself, nearly got lost again – maps just don’t manage to get it all correct – and Kim led us out of the alleyways by way of spotting a rooftop balcony she’d seen from the trattoria.  It was about 6;00pm when they saw us onto the bus.  They had the next day for more adventures.

Quite seriously, I only needed the one day here.  Historic Venice may be, but romantic, no, not in my book.  The crowds probably didn’t help.  Venice is mouldy and so many buildings appear empty and unloved.  Pity, I suppose.

We returned to the Country House in time for a clean-up and another simple pasta dinner with Lisa sliding around on her non-stop efforts to do everything from cooking to washing up.  We skipped breakfast next morning and made for an earlyish start heading to an ancient town, Arquà Petrarca in Padua, in the Euganean Hills which include 81 volcanic (extinct of course) hills.  Our destination was the modern hotel Villa del Poeta.

More soon.................

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