A
reprieve today, that we were allowed a few hours of down time (a few meaning
6). We started our day around 8, our
phone didn’t quite make it back on the hook after yesterday’s wake up call, so
we had to wake up on our own accord-hence the late morning. So our day starts in a panic and we barely
make breakfast, but we still made it and quickly scarfed it down.
Rehearsal
was at 9 down in the basement of our hotel.
It was not the ideal location, acoustically speaking-carpeted, filled
with furniture, and inconsistent materials making up the walls. But hey, it was a space large enough we could
rehearse in! We went over the songs we
were going to perform for our final concert in Innsbruck, Austria. The music was not difficult, and it seemed
that a lot of people hadn’t taken the time to even look at the music, so the
rehearsal was frustratingly slow.
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| Up the mountain |
After
the rehearsal was our long awaited down-time!
A group of us headed to the cable car (fulicore, in Italian) and
bee-lined it up to Montecatini Alto. Montecatinit
Alto is the sister city way up in the mountain from Montecatini Termi (hence
the Alto-Termi bit). It was worth the 4
euro to just see the two cities from the steep climb of the fulicore. On this ride, I kept accidently getting in
the shots of a touring group of British folk, and them in mine. We talk a little, share snarky comments, and
come to terms with the fact that we like each other. The main individual I was talking to, whose
name was Charles (older than the prince by the look of it, but still…) just
quips when we get off the tram saying “Trevor, you seem to have become a big
part of my life, how would you like to be adopted?” Great quote, good people.
Once
off the tram my group decides they want to go eat at a fancier resteraunt. I was willing to pass on this in lieue of 1)
I still had no money and 2) I wanted to explore with the shop hungry girls
around. Oh well, I went in and sat with
them (for a 2 euro charge). The place
outlooked the eastern valley, and was well worth the 2 euros. Their food was also spectacular, though I
ordered nothing (only taking nibbles of other people’s food) and enjoyed the
scenery, as well as caught up on this journal.
After
we ate we wandered the Alto a little, discovering that the olive oil in this area
costs 3-5 euro, where in the States it would easily cost $15. Crazy! (it reminds me of Vanilla in Mexico,
dirt cheap and higher quality than what the States can produce)
We then
noticed the time, about 2:45, and we needed to catch the bus back down (we
opted out of taking the tram back down just cause we wanted to experience
something different). Well, to begin,
you have to buy the bus ticket from a station in Italy- not on the bus. The gentleman at the ticket-shop spoke next
to no English, but we caught the gist that we weren’t going to get a ticket
from him (he was friendly and kind too, something that apparently breaks the
language barrier-good to know). Well,
now the bus shows up and we ask the
driver if we can just pay on the bus, he tells us no and that we have to go buy
a ticket. We head back to the gentleman
and explain, he walks out, exchanges words with the bus driver, and manages to
let us know we can ride the bus for free.
Sweet! Only… now for the most exciting adventure a tourist can have-
dealing with the local bus systems.
Well, to begin, the driver is a jackass (something that also seems to
break international boundaries-rude bus drivers), and a mad man driver. The roads are barely wider than the bus, and
they make hairpin turns down the mountain.
It could be that the driver just wanted to scare us, or it could be the
way he normally is, but in either case, he successfully scared me half to
death. Then I realize- we’re going down
that eastern side of the mountain, exactly the opposite way we want to go. We wind out in another town on the other side
of the hill, when he turns around and comes right back up the way he went
down. This is a bit of relief, because
if we stop right where we got on, we could still make the fulicore down and
make the bus ride to our next tour stop.
Well, then the driver goes down the north face of the mountain, and
heads west. The entire time I was in the
bus I was trying to make out the route maps posted on the windows, they had the
national, the regional, but not the local
map posted, so they were next to worthless.
At this point me and my companions are faced with another realization-
we have no idea how to stop the friggin bus.
The driver stops to pick up another lady, thank goodness too. Because this lady goes about half a mile,
hits a well hidden stop button (right about the handlebars), and we get off
with her. Now, we are a little freaked
because we still need to find the hotel again, but at least we know we’re in
the right city this time. We head along
the main road we’re at, until we see Antiono and his tour bus pass, us, and we
know we’re on the right track. We follow
that bus as far we could, then we notice a familiar courtyard off to the side. We were able to make it back with 20minutes
to spare, which is a triumph. No more
buses for me unless Antonio is driving.
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| A well kept wall |
Today’s
town was a medieval town with the largest Renaissance wall still preserved,
Lucca. This town is rather windy, with
cottonwood trees which remind me of home.
The town is also famous for being the birth place of Puccini, the opera
composer. His house was turned into a
rather pricy museum (considering the space and that it was for just one
composer), and right across from it was the resteraunt Puccini would take his
ladies of the evening.
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| Piazza San Martino |
The
church we were to sing in, Piazza San Martino, was an oddity. The façade was a newer, early Rococo/Late
Baroque façade that was obviously added onto the already existing church. They were able to use the same marble at least,
and in the same style as Firenze (red,green,white). It had three rows of columns creating an
arching effect, and totaling 37 columns in total. Each column was uniquely decorated to the
gills (Rococo). The inside had in
essence two front doors- the first that belonged to the addition, and the
second to the original church. The
original was very Gothic. The interior
also, very Gothic. This Gothic interior
fits far better with the bell tower outside, which was also Gothic. Unfortunately for us the interior of the
church was undergoing rennovations, so a lot of its grandeur was lost by
scaffolding and tarps.
After
dropping off our stuff, we had more free time to kill. We wander around Lucca, looking for a good,
inexpensive place to eat. At one piazza
we come to a place that essentially is an outdoor concert hall, and there in
it, a string trio just playing some Classic tunes. After that we found a mediocre pizza place,
and do some window shopping, which was fine because I was allowed to observe
the locals and see how different they were from the other places we had
been.
After
returning to Piazza San Martino, I re-examined the outside of the
building. Curiously I noticed a Celtic
cross on the arch outside of the building.
This is a very random thing to find in a town that was definitely
Baroque and Italian-so what exposure to Britain this town had, remains a
curiosity to me.
The
concert was great. The hall was so
live, it allowed around a 5 second reverb at its shortest, and 12 seconds at
its best! If you are a performer, a long
reverb can cause a person to get lost listening to themselves and force
dragging in the music. Yet again, this
seems to be common with Gothic architecture. And even for being under construction, the church was still very
beautiful.
After a
phenominal concert, we hopped on the bus and headed to bed.
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