DAY 38

Good bye Courmier and Chamonix!

Hello Camogli!

I had a three hour drive to get to Camogli yesterday. It took four. Construction. Two of three lanes closed. For 20 miles.

I have been vacationing too long. It seems I have acquired patience. It did not bother me. Plus, I had the Alps on each side of me. Great viewing at all times.

Castles accompanied me the whole way. Even as I got close to Camogli. Whereas I said yesterday they were about a mile apart, they seemed even closer during the drive. The castles are exciting to see. All different. Except for location. Each on top of a steep hill. Churches also, of course.

After viewing so many castles and being aware of the fighting that went on between them over the years, I do not know how Garibaldi got the various kings to join in and create one nation in 1861. An accomplishment!

Clotheslines were with me also the whole trip. Even now in Camogli. Greece and Italy are loaded with them. It seems to be the only way to dry clothes in those countries. Clotheslines between windows and on balconies and terraces. Sometimes merely a rope between two windows.

I have been of the impression that there are no dryers because of the electrical problem. I have been asking the natives. They tell me no. It is because they prefer their clothes to be sun dried. I do not buy it. But…

Even million euro/dollar apartments hang their wet clothes out.

I suspect that if someone could invest a dryer that needed little or no electricity, Italians would run to buy them.

An interesting experience occurred on one of the thruways I was driving. Italian gas stops have restaurants and stores just as in the U.S. Not Mac Donald types. Better wholesome food. And anything else you can consider buying.

I had an ice cream. I was waiting in line to pay for it. A middle aged woman in a black dress was in front of me. She had made a 51 euro buy. A big buy for such a store. She told the girl behind the counter she had just became aware she had to feed the whole family in the evening.

The woman paid the 51 euros with three 20s. The girl checked out the bills. They use a machine to do it in Italy. No crossing with a marker.

The girl said the bills were no good. The woman got upset. I just got them from the bank, she said. She pulled out a large bunch of 20s. Tried to pay two more times. None of the bills good. Finally the woman paid with genuine Italian money.

Outside were two tough devious looking men watching the whole proceeding. She went out to them and the whole three got in a car and drove away.

The girl behind the counter spoke English. That is the reason I am able to relate this story. She explained it all to me afterwards.

Parking sucks in Camogli. The condominium I am using is located on the water. There is no parking on the water. Nor for a couple of blocks behind the rows of waterfront buildings. I had to park far far away. Then drag and roll my suitcase up and down little hills. Additionally Camogli is all steps. Reminded me of Rome. I had to carry the bag up the steps.

I find it amazing. Each time I am confronted by steps, they go up. Never down.

I am getting stronger. Six weeks ago I would have died. After all the hilly walking I have done this trip, my body is getting accustomed to it.

Every place I have visited has had a different flavor. As does Camogli. It is the Italy as I thought it would be. Old medieval buildings, steps, people chattering incessantly and loudly.

The buildings are medieval. Each more than a thousand years old. Along the waterfront, which by the way is the Mediterranean, they are six stories high. The first floor consists of stores and restaurants. Second through sixth floors apartments. No elevators in any of the buildings. Steep narrow staircases in each.

In the U.S. the higher the floor, generally the more expensive. Not in Camogli. Because of the lack of elevators, the higher up you go, the cheaper the apartment.

Of course, no air conditioning in any of these buildings. Open windows and fans instead.

Camogli is on the western side of Italy. Significantly above Rome. Immediately next to Portofino. There is a mountain on the sea shore separating Camogli and Portofino. It is called Mount Portofino.

Last night I ate in Camogli rather than run over to Portofino. I was tired from the drive. From what I am told, Camogli and Portofino are the same. Perhaps Portofino later today.

I had dinner at a sea side cafe around 11. Too late, I know. However, I was hungry.

I selected the cafe because there were white tablecloths and what turned out to be real silver and china glasses.

I was not disappointed. I had one terrific meal! The entre was lamb encased in ground pecan nuts . It was served on top of a bevy of cooked fruits and vegetables mixed. The key was the taste. There was an oil which appeared to keep the pecans attached to the lamb. Whatever, it was delicious. One of the finest meals I have ever enjoyed.

Greece was cheap dollarwise. Italy is expensive. Like 3-4 times.

I was tired after dinner. A bit bloated. It was after midnight. The area was still bustling. I went immediately to bed.

Enjoy your day!

DAYS 36 and 37

I am back!

It is a question mark each day whether I will return. I failed to bring my computer with me. I am at the whim of internet stores and friendly people. One thing I know for a fact. Everyone in Italy is using old and sick machines. Each day is a task and a surprise.

I have been sleeping in Courmier the last three nights. Driving back and forth to Chamonix each day. The Alps are always before me. From the moment I rise to the time I go to bed. They are there on the drive to Chamonix and back. The mountains dominate the scene.

I would be remiss if I failed to make some additional comments regarding Mont Blanc. Remember it is 11 peaks on top of an already big mountain.

Mont Blanc defies description. I guess that is why I am back trying to tell you more about it. Words do not adequately tell you what the eyes see.

The mountain is high and tall. It stands defiantly. Speaks quietly. Says…..Don’t screw with me!

Impossible to see all 11 peaks at one time. Clouds up high. Block the view.

Trees cover the lower range of Mont Blanc. Pine. All the way up to a certain level. Then nothing but bare rock. Someone told me pines will not grow above 2,000 feet. The bare land is formidable. Then comes the peaks. Not just the very top. The top for a considerable distance downward.

When I arrived, some of the peaks had valleys of glaciers. Ice. One day later all the peaks were covered with snow. A significant dusting. Impressive.

Many waterfalls. They are streams running down the sides of the mountain. All over. Some a foot wide. Others up to 20 feet. Beautiful. They run in and out of the woods. You see it, then you do not. All of a sudden the stream reappears again.

The thinner streams were not running yesterday. They were frozen. Yesterday at this time (11 am) the temperature was 29 degrees F. At the same time 24 hours later it is 50 degrees F.

The waterfalls are attributable to two factors. The first is the melting glaciers. The other is that the mountain top is loaded with natural springs and wells. Below ground. They seep their way upward and add to the glacier spill off.

Yesterday morning, I had a unique experience. When I opened the door to the balcony starring at Mont Blanc, I saw a number of clouds. Some were below my eye level. Others at my eye level. Others above my eye level. All set against the green pines of Mont Blanc. A wow!

Last night when driving back to Courmier, I had another experience. Though one I have had before. Fog. Big time. There were occasions I could not see at all. Bad.

Moving on from Mont Blanc, let me share two food experiences I had yesterday.

The first was in Chamonix at lunch time. I went into a big restaurant at the main corners of Chamonix. Where all the world walks by. It was too cold to eat outside, however.

The menu was in total French. No English sub titles as I had become accustomed to elsewhere on this trip. I saw what appeared to be the word sausages. I have been eating many sausages this trip. All different. All good.

I ordered sausage. Pointed to it on the menu to the waitress. My mistake was not asking her to spell out exactly what I was ordering. Assuming she spoke English. I do not know. I found whereas many Greeks and Italians have at least a smarthering of English, the French seem to be above a second language.

I was served two boiled hot dogs and french fries. Not big fat hot dogs. Not long ones. Two regular sized.

I looked at them for a few minutes. And then decided, oh well! My mistake. Eat them.

I called the waitress over. Asked for ketchup and mustard. The least I could do was dress the meal up. She looked at me in shock. I knew what was coming…..We do not serve ketchup and mustard! We are French!

I quietly ate my boiled hot dogs and fries.

Dinner last night got screwed up, also. I was at what might best be described as a good neighborhood restaurant. It had been so described to me. I was told to be sure to eat polenta. It is the favored dish in this Alpian village.

There were only six entres on the menu. Each served with polenta. The only thing I recognized was chicken catecetore. I asked what polenta was. No screwing around this meal. Lunch was bad enough.

The waiter provided a polenta description. It was crushed corn. All mashed together with what I could not understand. He told me it was everyone’s favorite. Had me look at the other tables. Each had this heaping large dish of yellow stuff on their table. He further told me Christopher Columbus introduced polenta into this country. There was no corn in Europe prior to Columbus. He brought it to the old world from the new world.

I did not like the polenta. I was told to bury it in the tomato sauce. That is the way it is supposed to be eaten. I did. Better, but still not my dish.

The polenta alone cost me 12 euros. About $16 American money. Not worth it.

I am absolutely impressed with Italian roads and bridges. All appear in tip top shape. The Italians have also recently constructed a speed train from Milan to I know not where. A new road was built near the railway tracks. The road had to have 72 bridges. So the trains could pass underneath.

Italian roads and bridges are well maintained. There is a reason for it. At some point a law was passed that whoever built or constructed a road, received a contract to maintain the road for 30 years. The money for maintenance comes from tolls. The contractor charges the tolls. The contractor keeps the money and makes repairs as need.

A good deal for the contractor! Positive cash flow!

The Italians using the roads are not very happy about the 30 year thing however. The tolls are expensive. My two hour drive from Novara to Courmier had cost me 25 euros one way. The Italians are an adept society. Their way around the burdensome toll is to drive back roads. They know all the bye ways.

I think the Italian way of building and maintaining roads and bridges is worthy of investigation. Gets the job done! The job we are not and have not been doing for years. Our roadways and bridges are a disgrace. Forget maintenance. A pot hole per family. The cost is not a tax to be imposed. It is paid daily by the users of the roads and bridges.

It is probably a screw job either way. However, worth exploring.

A few words about Chamonix. Lovely! gorgeous! Exciting! People all over. Summer and winter. Great pedestrian walk ways. Terrific high scale stores. No tee shirt vendors. Very European. I sat several times having a coffee at an outdoor cafe and watched the world go by. It was the world. The whole world. Every nationality walking the streets.

I got to Chamonix through a tunnel. A nine mile tunnel. The Italians and French built it. Runs right under one of the Alp mountains. Cool!

Somewhere in the back of my mind comes a recollection of Mary Shelley and this area. I did not have the time to research it. Forgive me if I am wrong.

Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein’s Wife. A best seller at the time. She lived here in the Coumier area. Courmier was to have provided the background for the book.

Recall that her story took place in a castle. Castles all over the place here. Recall also the fog. Fog frequent here. Recall further the fog I drove through last night. The fog was thick enough not only for Frankenstein, but also Dracula and Wolfman.

Later today, I am driving to the Portofino area. The Italian Riviera. A three hour drive.

I will be staying in Camogli, a town immediately next door to Portofino.

The trip should be interesting. It is summer time and the area should be flourishing.

Enough for today. I am going to be thrown out this internet store. It closes from noon to 3 each day. In Chamonix, all the stores closed from 1 to 3. Siesta time.

Enjoy your day!

DAYS 35 and 36

Between northern Italy and mid eastern France, computer/internet connections have been a disaster. I think it is because I am high up in the Alps. Whatever.

I could not blog yesterday. Today is a double header. Every word worth reading!

If I had been able to do the blog yesterday, my opening comment would have been…..The last 48 hours have been amazing! Absolutely amazing! Hard to believe!

Here it is…..48 hours ago I was in Athens, Greece. Yesterday Novara, Italy. Today Chamonix, France.

How about this…..Athens a boiling 90 degrees. Novara’s humidity a killer. It snowed last night in Chamonix and is presently 29 degrees Fahrenheit.

The trip caught up with me in Novara. The humidity unbearable. Italians have electrical power problems. Ergo, little air conditioning. I slept in Novara that one night with no air.

Fortunately, only one night in Novara. Then to Courmier. Courmier is the area in northern Italy immediately before France. I am staying a couple of nights in a condo there.

The drive from Novara to Courmier took 2 hours. The speed limit was 85. I was the only one doing it. They were passing me at 125 miles per hour. Each time a car went by, I did not see it for long, but heard it loud and clear. A long swishing sound.

I stopped at a super market before going to the condominium. Needed breakfast goodies. The parking lot was an eye opener. The parking spaces were all half the size of those in the U.S. The cars small also. No big cars here. I was driving a Fiat. Stick shift.

Italians pay $12 a gallon for gas. They learned q long time to conserve. We have not when it comes to cars. I doubt the American public ever will. The desire is for big and more big.

Courmier looks like a Swiss movie. Makes sense. Switzerland is only one hour away. Old stone homes. Hundreds if not a thousand or more years old. Stone with wood trimming. The stone is gray, the wood brown.

There is a lot of renovating going on. Huge cranes all over the hill sides.

Courmier is in the Alps. So is Chamonix, France from where I am writing this blog. The Alps are big. No question about it. I had never seen anything so big anywhere. Majestic.

Mont Blanc is huge. As far as the eye can see in any direction. Higher than anything I have ever seen.

Mont Blanc is not one peak jetting upwards. It is a series of peaks. Eleven peaks sitting on top of an already high broad miles long mountain. The whole thing is called Mont Blanc. One of the peaks is specifically named Mont Blanc. The biggest of the big. Four thousand eight hundred ten m. I do not know what the m means. Suffice it to say, there ain’t anything bigger!

Mont Blanc is beautiful. Breathtaking.

The condo I am enjoying was two bedrooms. The building all stone. Two private balconies.

My intent was to drive to Chamonix the first evening and have dinner in France. Only a half hour away. I was too tired. It was bed for me.

Courmier is a valley. About two thirds the way up Mont Blanc. I was glad I had jeans. It is cold that far up.

Many power lines run along and on the mountains. Italy has a power shortage. France does not. France has nuclear reactors producing electric power. The Italians buy much of their electricity from France. At a premium price. The Italians voted at one time to ban nuclear reactors in Italy. A costly decision dollar wise. Whether health wise is another question. I make the observation because France and Italy are so close. Any French nuclear disaster would pour down on the Italians.

The drive from Novara to Courmier was interesting for a number of reasons. One had to do with castles. So many. Each built high on a hill. A small one. Apparently making it next to impossible for an enemy to scale the walls.

The castles were about a mile apart. I recalled that way back when there were many Italian kingdoms. Each with its own king. They warred constantly. It was easy. They were each a mile distant from each other. One hour’s walking time. Less on a horse.

Churches everywhere. Apparently each castle had its own church. The church was an integral part of each kingdom.

That is the end of Day 35. I had intended to go on to the next day. Day 36. A rendition of my first day in France. However, I am too tired. I apologize. The trip is starting to get to me. I will pick it up here tomorrow. You will love the glacier and snow stories, the dramatic drop in temperature, and the high quality of Italian roads and bridges. And more.

Enjoy your day! I am mine. I know this is the trip of a lifetime and one I will never do again.