Screw the Venetians, here come the Chinese!

-Don't miss the upcoming ModestMangoHongKong'10

Bill Simmons once wrote about how there a small number of cities that have that surreal wow factor, that when you are there it feels as if you are on a movie set. He was talking about New Orleans, or New York. Venice definitely fits that mould.

Venice is an easy place to talk glibly about, sound controversial, criticize it. 'It smells' or 'it's expensive.' I don't want to seem like too much of a misérable right off the bat though, so instead I'll adopt the same approach Chuck Klosterman does when charming a lady. I.e. first make a couple of flattering concessions.

The campos and rios of Venice make this island city probably the quaintest, most charming place Totoro has been on his giro.

The first walk from our nifty little lodging took us on a convoluted trip through archways and sestieres, past osterias and over pontes, eventually stumbling into the Piazza San Marco with its magnificent basilica. Pretty cool, huh?

So what's the dealio? Why my initial caveat? A year ago English Glen and I had the debate about 'soul-less' American cities. Contrasting to what one might expect, I now feel cities like Omaha, NE arguably offer more authentic culture than Venice. That sounds ridiculous. After all, Venice is one of the homes of opera, is one of the most iconic cities in the world (maybe the most?!), has great food and its people have had fingers in pizza-pies for millenia - Nebraska isn't even two centuries old.

But after the San Marco, Venice offers little landmarks. If you need any activities or something to read to stimulate your mind Venice is not the place. It is also Italian consumerism at its worst with nowhere to sit - unless you want to cough up €7 for an espresso. Every church or chapel charges to enter. And meals are extortionate. I sampled spaghetti with cuttlefish cooked in its own ink the first night, a Venetian classic, but after that we fed off bakery goods and pizza stalls.
 
Guidebooks romanticize the act of 'losing yourself in its alleys'. I call bullshit. The street layout quickly becomes a pretty irksome Venetian idiosyncrasy. Which brings me back to the word 'soul-less' and why I became pretty ambivalent towards this last city of the trip - every single storefront is exactly the same. The monotony of the place, paired with the heaving crowds and impossible navigation is grating. Bridge after bridge, each side mirrored by the same stalls selling Venice magnets and tacky opera masks, with a gondola paddlers clawing at you to get in for tour at €80 for 40 minutes...

This was not how it was supposed to end. Italy was incredible and I can't finish on such a damp squib. How about this: we flew home from Marco Polo Airport today and opposite us at the gate were a family of Americans. They had had a great time. And they weren't the only ones. We saw a freakin' American hen party Venice. A hen party in Venice.
 
Wait. Is that in praise of Venice or is simply proving once again the United States is the greatest country in the world? Boy I could murder a Nebraskan steak...

-ModestMangoItaly'10

El Grasso* has taken another victim. Bologna is famed for its rich food, thus its sometime moniker. Whether it is tagliatelle drowned in a thick ragù that is the city's namesake, mounds of tortellini (legend has it that the shape was inspired by the navel of Venus), meaty lasagne dripping in olive oil or local Parma ham served up with lashings of (also indigenous) parmesan, Bolognese cuisine can only be described as rich. So much so that many tourists come and go but only the English Glens go in one piece.

When Totoro and co arrived today one of our party was already suffering with a bit of a sore stomach. So called stomach fared even less well against the Bolognese fare.

I was skeptical, but ragù in Bologna is pretty freakin' great stuff.

Incredibly Bologna is raining. 'Il pleut' or whatever Italians say. Maybe that's Spanish... Or French... Whatever, the coolness is welcome respite but the wet is not. Fortunately Bologna has over 25 miles of porticoes to walk under, keeping me and my camera nice and dry.

Apart from that? We did far less sight-seeing today, and eating, but despite that I have still gotten a feel for the capital of Emilia-Romagna. Good points? All of the 'sights' are free. But then again this is probably because they are 'sights'. Highlight was the Teatro Anatomico in the Archiginnasio. This is where a lot of shit went down. These dudes back in the day were visionaries with regard to medical practice based on anatomical principles.

But still. Hardly a big pull for the average punter. (The use of 'punter' makes any sentence sound like a TM Lowe quote.) What else? A disappointing lack of food stores. Then an even more disappointing abundance of excessively priced clothing goods. Also, apparently Bologna closes on Thursdays. They take the day off. Therefore, we are taking the day off. I swear this seems the goddamn stupidest country I've ever been to at times.

See you in Venice where I hope to find a Coke for under 23 Euros...
 
*The Fat One

Whereas it is not possible for a Glaswegian to say that they are proud of Tennents without trying to be ironic, Dunedin's local beer is a completely different story. Speight's is the self-proclaimed "Pride of the South" and for once it's not just a throw-away tagline.

It's a delicious beer, brewed in the world's only remaining gravity-fed brewery. The ingredients are fed from the top of the brewery and work their way down the building and through the machines, all via the pull of gravity. How cool is that?

It's probably what I'm going to miss most when I leave.

P.S. Queenstown photos are up.

P.P.S. I'm heading to Milford Sound this weekend. Prepare to have your primary visual cortex blown next week.

Ironically, for the most pretty stop of this particular giro thus far, I am unable to post any pictures. Instead I'll have to write some quick, guff prose:

Totoro et al arrived in Florence about 9am this morning, having traversed Tuscany in luxury - a 'reservation only' train. Since then we have hit up the Duomo, yet another baptistry, the river Arno (again) and the Ponte Vecchio. I got my fish last night by the way. My insalate di frutte di mare was more than enough. Octopus and all...

The plan in Florence? Tripe. We haven't dabbled in intestines on this trip yet but leg 2 of the Tuscan gastronomic experience started well with possibly the greatest panini I have ever had. Pancetta. Peppers. Olive oil. No sports peppers but pretty freakin' tasty.

Of course there have been the typical day-to-day Italian experiences to slip into future anecdotes, e.g. the country's completely archaic postal system, but without a few pictures stuff like that becomes a bit dry.

Until Emilia-Bologna,

Totoro out.