Today started early with the roosters crowing and the dogs barking.
We were determined to make it to the bus stop for the 6:52a bus. We arrived at the stop at 6:48a. No bus. After much stomping and gnashing of teeth, we decided to wait for the next bus, arriving at 7:32a. Around 7:36, we decided to start walking. About that time, the bus came around the corner and we had to run back to the stop.
Now, we were told we could purchase biglietti (tickets) ON the bus. Turns out that’s not quite right. By “not quite right,” I actually mean patently false.
Ticketing on public transportation in Italy works a bit differently from other places I have been. You can buy as many tickets as you want whenever you want, but you have to “validate” each one before you use it. This usually consists of shoving it in a yellow box in the train station or on the bus. Most of the time, the validator prints the date and time on the ticket. It is good for X amount of time after validation.
Now, if you aren’t intimately familiar with this validation procedure and *gasp* forget to validate your ticket… and they check tickets, you can be fined many euro–usually €50-95.
So you can HAVE a legitimate ticket, but unless it is validated, it doesn’t matter.
The bus driver took mercy on us and gave (sold) us tickets that looked like they were about 5 years old, but remember: that doesn’t matter because they weren’t validated!
We finally got to the train station to get on our way to Pisa, and I selected (in Italian) where I wanted to go on the Biglietti machine, and stuck my money in. It then spat out two tickets, but not my €14,30 in change for the €5,70 ticket that I paid €20,00 for.
I marched into the little shop next to the machine, and in broken English the clerk attempted to explain that I would have to wait until I got to Pisa for a refund.
On the train to Pisa, after on stop we inexplicably started going backward in the same direction from whence we came. I reminded myself that we were in the hands of trained (TRAINed… get it?) professionals, and somehow we finally arrived at Pisa Centrale.
We walked through the streets following signs to “Duomo Pisa.” I managed to find a little open AP named dlink that graciously accepted all of my pictures from yesterday and this morning. So, don’t thank me, thank dlink.
The girls managed to snag €15 tickets to go up to the top of the fabulous engineering near-disaster that is the Leaning Tower. From what I hear, we are extremely lucky because the tower isn’t always open (maybe depending on which way the wind blows, tee hee), and when it is, they only allow up a certain number of people at a time. Our tickets are for 12:00, noon. I can’t take my small backpack up with me. I have to check it at Deposito Bagagli/Left Luggage.
While waiting for noon, the girls had roast beef sandwiches and I had my tomato sandwich with mayonnaise from a tube. Mmmmmm, tube ‘naise. It was slightly crushed in my backpack, but I just called it panini pressed.
While waiting at the ol’ Deposito Bagagli, I found the following jewel: “Please, consider that the spiral staircase has about as many as 300 step.” Need I say more? Oh, Italiaglish!
Even though it cheapens the Italiaglish, I see what they meant by “as many as.” you could stop at any of three levels. But, as you can probably guess, I bolted straight for the top, barely passing go, and not even collecting my €142.86 (that’s $200, assuming a $1.40/€ exchange rate).
Walking up the spiral staircases is like a really, really old, demented funhouse at the circus. You go round and round, tilting from side to side on slick and uneven stairs from all of the feet that previously have trodden upon them… and there is the whole “leaning” bit.
The view from the top really is pretty magical if you don’t have issues with vertigo that would be triggered by the spiral staircase and exacerbated by the tilting. When I say the top, I mean the VERY top. No netting, barely any rail. Just you, an engineering near-miss, and lots of meters (metres?) down. The whole city, and it feels like the whole world is laid out at your feet. You can see the mountains, all of the little ant-people marching around in lines, and a whole civilization. Jarring you back to reality is the voice of a PisaGuard(tm) shouting up, “Come down now, please.” All too soon your little moment on top of the world is over.
You can also give dlink your heartfelt appreciation for the pictures from the top of the tower.
Now I get to stand in line to redeem my little Trenitalia IOU to get my hard-earned and probably badly-exchanged euros back into my sweaty little hands.
With that done, I took the liberty to try something I had wanted to for a while: the Lavazza Self Bar. It’s an automatic coffee-tron, and there are a lot of them sprinkled around train stations. You put in €0,50 for espresso, or €0,80 for the espresso-based beverage of your choice. Select the strength and go. It drops out a cup and stirrer and dispenses the product into said cup. I got a cappuccino with chocolate, 4/5 on the strength scale. Not hand-pressed with love by an Italian barista, but cheaper, and not too bad. I would love to see how that thing works.
We got on the train to Fiorenze, then transferred at Empoli to the Siena train. We will get off at Poggibonsi. This train is pretty new. It has all sorts of neat seating arrangements and all of the cars are connected. It’s quiet and cool, something not often found on Trenitalia. The ticket-checkers are also very zealous.
That’s about it for the day. We have traveled a pretty good bit today, so I think it’s going to be an early night.
Life lessons:
1) The Gucci-Prada Act of 1972: buying or selling fake merchandise in Italy is an indictable offense punishable by a €big fine and death, as well as perpetual snubbing by the Ferragamo-wearing elite.
2) No matter how afraid Today started early with the roosters crowing and the dogs barking.
We were determined to make it to the bus stop for the 6:52a bus. We arrived at the stop at 6:48a. No bus. After much stomping and gnashing of teeth, we decided to wait for the next bus, arriving at 7:32a. Around 7:36, we decided to start walking. About that time, the bus came around the corner and we had to run back to the stop.
Now, we were told we could purchase biglietti (tickets) ON the bus. Turns out that’s not quite right. By “not quite right,” I actually mean patently false.
Ticketing on public transportation in Italy works a bit differently from other places I have been. You can buy as many tickets as you want whenever you want, but you have to “validate” each one before you use it. This usually consists of shoving it in a yellow box in the train station or on the bus. Most of the time, the validator prints the date and time on the ticket. It is good for X amount of time after validation.
Now, if you aren’t intimately familiar with this validation procedure and *gasp* forget to validate your ticket… and they check tickets, you can be fined many euro–usually €50-95.
So you can HAVE a legitimate ticket, but unless it is validated, it doesn’t matter.
The bus driver took mercy on us and gave (sold) us tickets that looked like they were about 5 years old, but remember: that doesn’t matter because they weren’t validated!
We finally got to the train station to get on our way to Pisa, and I selected (in Italian) where I wanted to go on the Biglietti machine, and stuck my money in. It then spat out two tickets, but not my €14,30 in change for the €5,70 ticket that I paid €20,00 for.
I marched into the little shop next to the machine, and in broken English the clerk attempted to explain that I would have to wait until I got to Pisa for a refund.
On the train to Pisa, after on stop we inexplicably started going backward in the same direction from whence we came. I reminded myself that we were in the hands of trained (TRAINed… get it?) professionals, and somehow we finally arrived at Pisa Centrale.
We walked through the streets following signs to “Duomo Pisa.” I managed to find a little open AP named dlink that graciously accepted all of my pictures from yesterday and this morning. So, don’t thank me, thank dlink.
The girls managed to snag €15 tickets to go up to the top of the fabulous engineering near-disaster that is the Leaning Tower. From what I hear, we are extremely lucky because the tower isn’t always open (maybe depending on which way the wind blows, tee hee), and when it is, they only allow up a certain number of people at a time. Our tickets are for 12:00, noon. I can’t take my small backpack up with me. I have to check it at Deposito Bagagli/Left Luggage.
While waiting for noon, the girls had roast beef sandwiches and I had my tomato sandwich with mayonnaise from a tube. Mmmmmm, tube ‘naise. It was slightly crushed in my backpack, but I just called it panini pressed.
While waiting at the ol’ Deposito Bagagli, I found the following jewel: “Please, consider that the spiral staircase has about as many as 300 step.” Need I say more? Oh, Italiaglish!
Even though it cheapens the Italiaglish, I see what they meant by “as many as.” you could stop at any of three levels. But, as you can probably guess, I bolted straight for the top, barely passing go, and not even collecting my €142.86 (that’s $200, assuming a $1.40/€ exchange rate).
Walking up the spiral staircases is like a really, really old, demented funhouse at the circus. You go round and round, tilting from side to side on slick and uneven stairs from all of the feet that previously have trodden upon them… and there is the whole “leaning” bit.
The view from the top really is pretty magical if you don’t have issues with vertigo that would be triggered by the spiral staircase and exacerbated by the tilting. When I say the top, I mean the VERY top. No netting, barely any rail. Just you, an engineering near-miss, and lots of meters (metres?) down. The whole city, and it feels like the whole world is laid out at your feet. You can see the mountains, all of the little ant-people marching around in lines, and a whole civilization. Jarring you back to reality is the voice of a PisaGuard(tm) shouting up, “Come down now, please.” All too soon your little moment on top of the world is over.
You can also give dlink your heartfelt appreciation for the pictures from the top of the tower.
Now I get to stand in line to redeem my little Trenitalia IOU to get my hard-earned and probably badly-exchanged euros back into my sweaty little hands.
With that done, I took the liberty to try something I had wanted to for a while: the Lavazza Self Bar. It’s an automatic coffee-tron, and there are a lot of them sprinkled around train stations. You put in €0,50 for espresso, or €0,80 for the espresso-based beverage of your choice. Select the strength and go. It drops out a cup and stirrer and dispenses the product into said cup. I got a cappuccino with chocolate, 4/5 on the strength scale. Not hand-pressed with love by an Italian barista, but cheaper, and not too bad. I would love to see how that thing works.
We got on the train to Fiorenze, then transferred at Empoli to the Siena train. We will get off at Poggibonsi. This train is pretty new. It has all sorts of neat seating arrangements and all of the cars are connected. It’s quiet and cool, something not often found on Trenitalia. The ticket-checkers are also very zealous.
That’s about it for the day. We have traveled a pretty good bit today, so I think it’s going to be an early night.
Life lessons:
1) The Gucci-Prada Act of 1972: buying or selling fake merchandise in Italy is an indictable offense punishable by a €big fine and death, as well as perpetual snubbing by the Ferragamo-wearing elite.
2) No matter how afraid you are of plummeting to your imminent doom, if you paid €15 to climb the Leaning Tower, you darn well better go to the top.
3) If you see something you want within reason, get it, because you may never be back to Italy or [insert country here] again.
4) Sienamobilità. Running buses when we want with no regard to scheduling since whenever we started. are of plummeting to your imminent doom, if you paid €15 to climb the Leaning Tower, you darn well better go to the top.
3) If you see something you want within reason, get it, because you may never be back to Italy or [insert country here] again.
4) Sienamobilità. Running buses when we want with no regard to scheduling since whenever we started.
Eh, I actually didn’t go for that shot. I did, however, take a picture of me at the top. I saw too many people in strange contortions trying to “hold” or “push” that I thought I didn’t want to look like that. :-)
Yea to getting to the top of Pisa’s tower. We did not get that done last year. Anne will be jealous. Pisa is where the pickpockets attempted to pick H’s pocket. Too many tourists here. Have not looked at pics but certainly hope that you were successful in getting one that shows you holding up the leaning tower. I was a failue at that.