Italian Riviera

After thoroughly enjoying the Piedmont region, we started making our way to Lucca for our first cooking class.  Since we had an extra day we decided to check out Sanremo, a beach town on the Italian riviera.  A guidebook had said that the town used to be similar to Monaco many years ago but that its image and prestige had waned - we expected a sleepy beach town.  We rolled off the highway and immediately started driving in circles (sometimes in multiple circles around the roundabouts too - what the hell, when you are lost it buys time!).  We saw a random hotel and decided to check it out.  It shall remain nameless.  We went into the lobby and immediately smelled like lifelong smokers.  A woman showed us a room (supposedly “large bed, good views, balcony”) and later we laughed at how we both starting feeling depressed immediately...as in the room was so bad it felt like a dungeon - a dingy, depressing, dilapidated dungeon.  We said we would think about it and started to the car to make our escape, but the lady followed, hounding us for passport info to reserve the room.  Thankfully, as I was about to cave and say yes to staying in the torture chamber, Red the Hero took a stand and said no.  The clouds parted, angels wept and we left.  We drove along the coast and found this beauty - an apartment-style hotel room in a small town.  We shopped at a local grocery store for dinner (that was comical), made a caprese salad and toasted our good fortune that we were not chained in the room at Hotel Cry-Yourself-To-Sleep.

The other thing we don’t have pictures of is our experience on the train (Genova to Lucca).  God if someone had been filming.  We somehow got good tickets but didn’t really know what we were doing, so we got on the last car possible...the furthest car from our seats.  For those who don’t know about trains in Italy, the aisles in the economy cars are not wide enough for a cat to squeeze through and people sit/stand in empty areas - you sort of throw yourself and your suitcase along and hope you don’t kill anyone.  We proceeded to “scuzi” our way around and over people through 9 cars with our massive luggage.  We were sweaty (shocker there) and exhausted when we found our seats...everyone else looked peaceful and rested (and a bit disgusted by our arrival into their pristine environment).  Then we got to our next destination and long (boring) story short, our next train was cancelled (strikes) but we waved our train tickets at a bus driver and he took pity and let us on.  FYI, we don’t take pictures when we look like road kill, so just picture us hot and bothered throughout all of that. 

Comments

[Frank (Dad) Levinson]

Hey Rosie and Redd -

I think you may have a better future in travelogs than in restaurants. Wow. The essays are really fun. keep them up. I would print all out when you are back home and put them in a book so you can show them to your grandkids about 40 years from now!

much love,

Dad