One Wild and Precious Life: Travelogue Continued: Pisa, Livorno, Montenero, and On to Loreto

Hello, again! I am doing so many interesting things that I'd love to tell you about: taking a 3-day mini-vacation, right here at home, making duck (and duck soup -- shades of the Marx Brothers!) for the very first time, shoveling inches and inches of Tennessee snow -- rare for this part of the world. But of course, in the middle of winter snow, I'm thinking very fondly of Italy, and do want to continue my travelogue, as I'm smack in the middle of it!

What I didn't say about Genoa is that I began to get a cold my last day there. I knew I was getting sick. I bought chewable Vitamin C and began mega-dosing, which for me, at least mitigates any illness. I should have known I'd catch something from that little German couple next to me on the plane ride over, who were sneezing and blowing their noses the whole trip. It took about 5 days, but sure enough, I began to come down with something. I was nervous, having been sick to death (and a slow recovery) for about 2 months before my departure. I had worked so hard on getting better! But somehow I knew (isn't it funny how our bodies have this wisdom we seldom listen to?) that this was a simple cold, and I was determined not to let it spoil my trip. So I stocked up on ibuprofin, antihistamines, tissues, and vitamin C (one woman pharmacy customer was very kind to help me translate). I did get some of my worrisome cough back, and felt bad for all my traveling companions. Perhaps I should have bought a surgical mask for myself, to avoid spreading germs. But otherwise, there was nothing I could do. The show must go on.

From Genoa, I rode the train to Pisa, two hours straight down the western coast of Italy. It was a beautiful ride, even nursing the cold. Pisa had accessible tourist information, a good map, and a city layout that made a little more sense than some. We Americans like straight streets that keep their names from block-to-block, and maps that take us where we want to go. Given that I didn't have GPS, the maps were my lifelines. Once again, I forgot that I could check my luggage at the train station (slaps self on the head), and so I dragged it all over Pisa with me. How much easier it would have been with one bag, rather than two! But at least the rolling bag allowed me to strap on my heavy knapsack, so I didn't have to carry all that weight on my back all day. Incidentally, my best genius travel idea: a couple of bungee cords tucked away. I used them, and they were invaluable in strapping bags to bags, holding my extra bag shut (a light, nylon duffle that packed flat in my other bag) when it was stuffed full of souvenirs and literature about the sanctuaries I visited.

Anyway, off I went to Chiesa San Francesco. Got there about 2, and was told I couldn't get in till 4. I was just beginning to get the hang of this siesta thing -- most things are closed between 12-4. You can find restaurants open 12-1:30 or so, but then even they close till 7 or so. Looking at my map, I realized I was less than a mile from the Leaning Tower of Pisa, which I'd never seen -- so off I trotted. Yep, it really leans.

The duomo (duomo means dome, and it signifies usually one of the main cathedrals in the city or town) looked beautiful, and yes, I could have gone in. Tourists pay a fee, but those who want to pray are admitted free. But my time was taken up with walking around these two marvelous edifices, taking a considerable number of exterior photos, and looking with wonderment on all the souvenir vendors. See that row of white canopies, in the left-hand background of this photo? That goes on for about 2 blocks. And that's not even the approach I took to the tower and duomo. The way I came also had about 2 blocks of the same. Italy has done very well with tourism. I wonder what percentage of its economy is made from tourists? I'm not complaining: I loved getting my souvenirs when it was a black madonna sanctuary. I didn't buy any here. Just saying -- the souvenir vendors are amazing and resourceful.

Then, back to San Francesco. I stopped and bought another one of those delicious kebaps, and sat on a bench outside, eating, drinking water, recovering from all the walking I did (with heavy luggage), writing in my journal. Miserable, actually -- Pisa really was the very worst day of my cold. But I did see two rather ruddy madonna icons, when I finally got into the church. Amazing, I was the only tourist -- the other group allowed in by the monks that lived on-site, was a choir, rehearsing anthems, perhaps for St. Francis day, since I was there on September 28, and St. Francis day was Sunday, Oct. 4.

Here's one of the icons I saw. You can see that she's not dark, as far as I'm concerned. Yep, there were lots of disappointments on this trip, This is one stop where I could definitely have used my tripod, had I not been sick and forgetful. Okay, she's a little olive-skinned, but certainly not even as dark as the madonna of Czestohowa.

And here's another. You can see that she's a little dark, too -- but not what I'd call "black," by any stretch. The next time I go, I am going to have a really fine camera, and will use my tripod and any other equipment I can tote around with great abandon. It makes me mad that I bought my collapsible, full-size tripod, which also included a little mini-tripod, especially for this trip, but then used it so seldom. These shots are not of publishable quality, but still, you get the idea.

Straight from Pisa, I went to Livorno, another port city. I had to ride the bus to the tourist info center, and got a map of the city, but no hotel listings. I began my walk, still sick as a dog, looking for affordable shelter for the night. By this time I had completely given up the idea of staying at convents or religious houses, because two-star hotels were really very reasonable and pleasant. So I looked. And looked. And looked. And it got later and later. After 6. Close to 7. I was clueless. Finally I found a travel agent, and walked in and asked him about lodging. I made it clear that I was looking for 2-star lodging, and he immediately directed me to Hotel Citta (pronounced "cheetah"). After some looking, I found it! Another gracious little spot, no elevator, but a room right at the top of the (marble) steps. Nice owner. In these places, they don't hire a lot of desk-help -- the owner pretty much takes care of things.

This 2-star had breakfast for a little extra. I really liked the woman who tended the breakfast room. We talked in broken English and very broken Italian, and she learned I was from Tennessee. "Hey, Tennessee!" she called to me. From Livorno it was a 20 minute bus ride to Montenero/Leghorn. I never quite figured out the relationship between the two. I think Montenero was at the foot of the hill, and then once I rode the funicular (I love funiculars!) to the top of the hill, the town itself was Leghorn, but the Santuario was of course what I was seeking. A black madonna that had been "lightened," they said. And she was. Lightened. There were quite a few disappointments in my journey. But what still amazed me was that these huge sanctuaries, these huge pilgrimage sites existed, that no one has ever heard of. Be honest: have you heard of the santuario at Montenero? And yet it was big and grand and had lots of little souvenir vendors.

Isn't this amazing? It looks like Loreto, but because of the order on my roll of photos, I know it's not. But you see the business around this. Here is the madonna, in a very blurry shot -- but you can see her skin -- it's not dark at all, definitely whitened, if it ever was originally dark. To me, it's a sign that the Roman church much prefers her madonnas white-skinned.

When I got there, the church was open, but all the souvenir kiosks were closed -- owners might be right behind them, eating lunch, but they weren't interested in making money during the lunch hour. So I got nothing at this site. I have called these things a disappointment -- but how can I be disappointed at seeing such lovely buildings, such a lovely part of the country, riding a bus and funicular, finding my way around unfamiliar places when I don't even speak the language, except a few words and phrases? It was all a gift. And I've learned. I know where not to go on my next trip, but I'm sure glad I was there. Someday if I'm simply visiting seaport cities, Livorno deserves a closer look.

I spent one more night at Hotel Citta, and gave my host a cold. I'm so sorry. But I woke feeling better, knew my own cold had turned the corner, and I was ready to head out to Loreto, clear across the country (okay, it's a very narrow country, geographically, but still....

More tomorrow. Tonight I will go out and shovel up another few inches of snow. All those miles I walked in clothes that did not keep me cool, all the sweating did -- and tonight I'll shovel snow. More soon, I promise.