Suzy Guese

Museums tend to hold the majority of cherished and prized Italian art. However, outside a number of Florentine residents add to the outdoor museum of the city. Part of what I love about Florence is its cohesive architecture, the city’s ability to stick to one style even throughout newer, more modern buildings. Part of that appeal lies in nearly every piazza and around every corner. There is some sort of statue to be seen, admired, and yes, even feared. The more famous, the lesser known, the symbolic and the evil eyed are among my favorites in Florence.

Rape of the Sabine Woman by Giambologna in Loggia dei Lanzi

Autumn by Giovanni Caccini on Ponte Santa Trinita

Dietrofronte in Porta Romana

Dante Alighieri in Piazza Santa Croce

Most draw their attentions to the Ponte Vecchio in the other direction, but Ponte alla Carraia warrants more than a look. Standing on Ponte Santa Trinitá, Ponte alla Carraia spans the River Arno and appears covered in a haze this evening. The reflections of nearby buildings use the Arno as their mirror, getting ready for a big night out in Florence.

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When you spend your birthday traveling after years of doing so at home, it is bound to feel somewhat strange, not really the big day with presents and cake unless you bring all of the bells and whistles with you. While I didn’t get any cake for my birthday, just gelato, I had the hard task of spending the big day in Maratea, Italy. Maratea rests along the Golfo di Policastro in the Basilicata region of Italy, blanketed with soft orange rooftops encased by green hills on one side and Tyrrhenian Sea on the other. The drive into medieval Maratea had me clutching my seat belt on a few occasions. A road narrower than the famed Amalfi Coast road had tunnels unseen and sea views uninterrupted by boats or anyone for that matter.

The light at the end of the tunnel to Maratea, Italy

Maratea's Rooftops

This week I revealed my love for Bolzano, Italy, a place of cultural confusion, where Austria and Italy meet. I had the same moment with Maratea. Perched high above town is Christ the Redeemer, similar to that of the original in Rio de Janeiro. A sprawling metropolis may not be this Christ statue’s vantage point, but I imagine Maratea’s Redeemer will be staying put with this as his view.

Maratea, Italy from above

Christ The Redeemer, in Maratea?

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I have found my perfect place, where the variety of food is actually existent, where Italian pizzazz meets Austrian order, where people don’t seem to speak English when I speak Italian or even Italian for that matter, where the setting doesn’t tell you exactly where you are. You may have to ask someone. Italy? Germany? Switzerland? Austria? Who knows, but no one seems to care.

On a quest to get out of 100-degree temperatures in Florence, I did what I think every traveler does at one point or another, picks a spot on a map and just goes. Sure some research followed about this magical city post point, but in the end it was a completely random find, not somewhere I intended, just an escape from the blazing Tuscan sun.

Two names scatter about the city, Bolzano and Bozen, one Italian and one German. Just shy of Italy and Austria’s meeting in the Trentino-Alto Adige region of Italy, Bolzano sits as the gateway to the Dolomites. The culturally confused city left me scratching my head on several occasions. Biergartens and pizzerias? Cars are actually stopping as I cross the road? Is that German I hear? Italian teenage boys are polite when they hackle you? Feeling out of place yet not, Bolzano was technically Austrian up until 1919. Mussolini came in to “Italianize” the city, but I would say he failed. Bolzano is neither Italian nor Austrian.

Framed by the bizarre looking Dolomites, I can only say so much about Bolzano. If you are planning on visiting Italy, rather than that classic train trip from Florence to Cinque Terre or Venice, head north to Bolzano. Not convinced? Here are some reasons and photos to get you moving to Bolzano, or it is Bozen?

Bolzano's streets

Castles, Castles and More Castles

Bolzano is home to three castles in the area. Two you can walk right up to, including Castel Mareccio, a 12th century structure and Castel Roncolo, built in 1237. Castel Roncolo even holds 14th century frescoes depicting scenes from secular literature.

Castel Mareccio in Bolzano, Italy

Cable Cars

Bolzano has three cable car routes, easily accessible from town. Apparently the world’s oldest and the world’s longest cable cars reside in the city. While I don’t believe that to be true, I did take Bolzano’s longest cable car, Funivia del Renon, stretching high above Bolzano for 4556 meters. The ride leaves you in a quiet little town where numerous hiking trails present. Images of Austria come to mind as the city is out of view and the rolling hills and mountains take center stage. The cable car in itself lends views that make stomachs jump as high as those Dolomite peaks.

Cable Car in Bolzano

A 5,000-year-old Iceman

It is no secret visiting Ötzi, a 5,000 year old man found in ice, in Bolzano left an indelible mark on me. Bolzano is home to the archaeological wonder at the Museo Archeologico dell’Alto Adige. While the admission may cost one of Ötzi’s arms and legs at 9 Euro, it was well worth it. The museum also holds various other archaeological finds, but the main act here is Ötzi and all of his belongings and gear.

Museo Archeologico dell'Alto Adige

Sunday Morning Italian Strolls and Friday Night Austrian Beers

Bolzano's Cathedral

On a Sunday morning, the shops of Bolzano are closed and the streets are silent. The wooden market stalls of Bolzano are empty, lacking the life they had during the rest of the week. The Gothic Cathedral makes its presence known as German mass is being said. Piazza Walther is scattered with a few people as the rest of Bolzano hasn’t had their morning espresso just yet. In contrast, on a Friday night, everyone is out in full force, walking and cycling through the arcaded streets of Bolzano. German and Italian fills the air, but not a word of English. Restaurant menus are only in Italian and German, making it hard to know if you should just say “Vorrei schnitzel”, (I want schnitzel) or use the complete Italian equivalent. Diners feast on boots of beer, leaving a new appreciation for Bolzano post weizen.

Bolzano's streets on a Sunday morning

Natural Scenes Unseen

Hills above Bolzano

After taking the Funivia del Renon, I noticed there were various trails you could take. I selected the Earth Pyramid route, a geological peculiarity. Wandering through Austrian looking scenes, not a soul was around. The hike was not difficult, except when you start singing “the hills are alive, with the sound of music”. It is hard to twirl like Maria and keep on the right path. After less than an hour, you reach the Earth Pyramids, a formation of rock that dates back to the glacial era. More outer space than Dolomites of Italy, even the natural settings in and around Bolzano left me wondering just where I was.

The Earth Pyramids

One by one, they line up to pay their respects to an old man. Forming a snaking line, each person has their time to say hello and goodbye. What sounds like a normal funeral is somewhat different today. No one at this funeral knew the man behind the glass case. In fact, no one on the planet knew him. They don’t know his name. They don’t know the content of his character, the life he lived, or even why they are paying respects besides the fact that this man is 5,000 years old.

The story of Ötzi, the Iceman, technically began between 3350 B.C. and 3100 B.C., before Stonehenge and the pyramids of Egypt, before modern day travel with airplanes, spiffy backpacks, and travel gear. The modern world did not know the story of Ötzi until September of 1991. Two hikers decided to stray off of the trail in hopes of cutting their time with the ever-attractive shortcut. Walking in the Ötztal Alps, bordering Italy and Austria, the two stumbled upon an archaeological sensation. What they thought was just a fallen hiker turned out to be a fallen hiker of 5,000 years ago, one of the oldest mummies in the entire world.

The South Tyrol Museum of Archaeology

The South Tyrol Museum of Archaeology in Bolzano, Italy puts on Ötzi’s funeral daily. Behind a glass case, visitors walk up, standing in probably the only respected and unhurried line in all of Italy. They peer inside a tiny window at the Iceman, quiet and in awe of his preservation. What makes Ötzi so special is not that he is a mummy, but an accidental one at that, preserved along with his belongings due to his placement at death in a glacier wrapped in ice.

The strange aspect to my visit was that I nearly missed my time with Ötzi. I scoured all of his clothing and equipment displays, admired his modern day apparel of leggings and topped things off with a look at the man’s hat, completely intact. Seeing all of Ötzi’s belongings had me considering how this Iceman from 5,000 years ago had more in common with travelers today than one might think.

In It For The Long Haul

Ötzi carried with him all necessary items, an extensive kit. The reason behind his hoarding was not merely for survival but also for travel and experience. Ötzi packed his backpack full of items that would allow him to be away from home for a long period of time. He didn’t need anyone. His kit made him self reliant, much like most solo travelers today.

Travel For Escapism

Ötzi died due to a flint arrowhead lodged in his shoulder along with experiencing some sort of fall. Archeologists could tell he was in a hand-to-hand combat the night before he died. Perhaps Ötzi was traveling to escape something or someone, heading for the hills so to speak to get away. Whether travelers want to admit it or not, there is usually some escape travel lends, whether it is a 9 to 5 job you can’t see an end to or a quest for adventure.

You Are Never Too Old

Ötzi was 45 years old when he died. Today, that is still relatively young. In Ötzi’s time, travel would not have been something for an “old” man. I often say travel is not limited to age, that physical and mental travel can be experienced no matter your year. Ötzi’s alpine journey proves he was doing something outside the norms of his Copper Age. Why can’t you?

What You Carry Carries You

As I wandered the museum, all of Ötzi’s possessions scatter about displays. A modest first aid kit, a backpack and a copper axe are among the finds. The copper axe noted Ötzi’s status of the time, indicating he was probably a chief, village representative or cattle owner. These items found with Ötzi all ended up defining his life. At the risk of sounding morbid, I look at my partially unpacked suitcase, spilling out with train tickets, tank tops and a curling iron. If I were to fall into a glacier with my travel pack and be found 5,000 years later, what would define me? Whatever you carry with you, not just physical items but also travel experiences defines you. Ötzi is “somewhat” living proof of that fact.

Ötzi, The Iceman

After viewing all of Ötzi’s belongings and learning about the man, I started to head upstairs. Ötzi had to be around here somewhere. My sister quickly motioned me down, that we had skipped the actual mummy viewing. I was so preoccupied with what Ötzi had with him and his story, I forgot to meet him. Walking up to Ötzi, I noticed similarities in our flat feet as a gripping sensation came over me. The hikers that stumbled upon him could have easily skipped that shortcut. Who knows if I would have ever had this moment with Ötzi. Despite how small the world may seem at times, I can’t help but wonder how many other icemen and ice-women are out there, travelers forever frozen in time.

The town of Otranto rests just before the tip of Italy’s boot heel in the Puglia region. Said to be Italy’s main port to the Orient for nearly 1,000 years, Otranto was fast asleep. Arriving later in the day on an empty stomach, I stumbled upon a restaurant still filled with diners. The owner I assumed, the Italian woman that wore the pants in her relationship with her husband, quickly told me they were closed but they would make me something quickly. As all of the other diners got up and left, I began wondering if I said something wrong or smelled of a long car ride. Regardless, her kindness left a mark on me in Otranto, a town dressed in only white. It was hard to imagine 18,000 Turks killed 800 Christians here in the 15th century. A settlement so peaceful could hardly be besieged in my mind, especially after viewing the color of its waters and its Greek looking homes.

Otranto's waters

Otranto's Greek-looking buildings

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This week, I am pleased to present a guest post from Annie Bettis of Wayward Traveller. I am proud to say I have actually had the opportunity to meet Annie while here in Florence. Aside from being an incredibly nice person, Annie is also extremely insightful about Italian life, living with Italians, and making the leap for travel experiences. She has spent the last 6 months living in Florence and recently launched her new travel blog, Wayward Traveller. I love Annie’s tagline, “Until I’ve seen it all”. Follow Annie on Twitter while giving this new travel writer a read and learn about life in Italy and beyond.

As I type this, I hear the familiar bickering of the elderly couple that lives above us. I am reminded, again, of my place here. It’s now been six months since I have arrived in Italy. I’ve spent half of my 23rd year here, but I still can’t call myself a local.

The couple’s bickering is all too familiar, but the words; the words still don’t register in my brains vocabulary. I wonder what is going on in the heads of Lorenzo’s friends, when once a week they see me and I smile and stare blankly into the unknown. I have a undying fear that they will forever think I am just some American droid sent to slowly take over the mind of their beloved friend.

My expat friends keep reassuring me that it’s only a matter of time until I can understand the conversations. How do you break a year of silence? I imagine making some vulgar man-joke only to see his conservative Italian friends stare at me in horror and confusion. Hopefully, it would all end in a laugh. I know they are understanding that I haven’t have the same eight years of language study they have, however, I think that my personality is quite enjoyable and I would like them to be able to see what Lorenzo sees in me. I can assure you it doesn’t have to do with how pretty I look when I stare into space or make squinty faces trying to read people lips.

Every day is different. Some days I go to the supermarket or some new vendor and make some humorous and successful communication with a local and I think I have finally found my place in this little city center suburb. Then it is all shattered as minutes later a lost Italian asks me about the bus system and I stare blankly. I have learned to say “Comé?” instead of “Scusa?” when I don’t understand, as that conveys that you simply didn’t hear the demand but I suppose the deer-in-headlights look gives me away just a bit too much.

The City Center is the worst, even if I try, and I almost always do, my Italian is met with a huffy English response. I would avoid the Center all-together to avoid this reaction but then I remember, I still need these clear responses to get myself around.

I have considered learning just enough German to say “I only speak German” to the street vendors so they will stop cat-calling me and shouting “Excuse me, Miss California?” but then I will inevitably be called out in some German slang and have to fess up.

I guess, after six months of living and three months of Italian courses, I have to admit. I am still lost in the abyss that exists somewhere between tourism and local life. Maybe at the end of my year, I’ll heave a sigh of relief as I can finally join the Italian small-talk, then I’ll be hoisted out on an expired visa and on to the next travelers battle.