Getting to Umbertide, first week there

We’ve arrived in Umbertide, and for this week one reason I haven’t blogged is that the Wi-Fi hasn’t worked in the house.  We pay for it for the time we aren’t here, and for the brief time we’re here we need to wait for a service call.  Today it’s finally done.

On my usual transportation theme, we loaded the car in Grimaud, then getting out of town was a problem I’d rather forget.  Anyway, we weren’t delayed too much, and we made our return trip through the many tunnels and past Genoa.  We had an Autogrill stop with pasta al pesto.  I had thought that, if the drive took a lot longer than expected, we’d stop for the night in Lucca.  It was around 3 when we went by there, and we were ready to complete the trip to Umbertide.  We got it done, finding the house nice except for Wi-Fi and TV reception.  For the Internet, we used the hotspot capabilities of the local SIM on Margaret’s iPad, but we ate through the allowance quickly and needed to get more data.

Beyond that, we worked, in a small way, through matters of the house becoming mine, a difficult matter to sink in.  We know how my mother’s presence is felt in the house and around town.  We've stayed in Umbertide the whole time, and it’s been fine not to be too ambitious.  We’ve had great times visiting with friends and in the familiar shops.  

There could be more to report, but pictures of the Wednesday market generally make for a good conclusion.

St-Tropez

It was Margaret's birthday, and we made our excursion to St- Tropez.  The traffic was intense; I directed the TomTom GPS to the Parc des Lices garage for this once-in-50-years trip. There were vehicles crowding into the entrance from multiple directions. A van with Dutch plates cut in front of us, the passenger found it was too tall, and made us back up to let them out with people behind us. 

We found the busy Place des Lices market, went around there, and to a harbor café.  We didn't have lunch plans that were too ambitious, selected Le G for a pleasant birthday meal. 

The GPS took us down a narrow street that I wasn't sure was correct, but we wound up OK, including some extra circling of roundabouts. 

Back in Grimaud, for the evening, we hoped to go to a nearby creperie, but there seems to be a problem of limited places being open Monday and Tuesday. We wound with a pizza, not great. It's hard to review this full Grimaud stay, but it was an interesting return. Pictures:

Memories, getting to Grimaud

  Although the setup for the marathon appeared to allow traffic in one direction, we decided to leave the apartment before the start, go to the front of the train station, and get a taxi to the airport. At a fixed fare of 25 euros on Sunday, we got there much earlier than our scheduled pickup time, and sat with coffee for that time so the return time in Rome would be right. 

When we got the car, it was a Fiat 500L like last time, but automatic, which is overall preferable, especially without owing a supplement. It is a confusing type of automatic; with one setup it's semi and calls for shifting, although it doesn't have a clutch.

We took the autostrada-autoroute with some tie-ups on the Italian side. I planned a lunch stop for the last Autogrill on the Italian side; it turned out to be a snack bar with sandwiches. The tollbooth took a credit card at the staffed booth. Not many cars were crossing the border. In France there were three lanes in each direction all the way.  There were three booths that took a fixed toll, then a short segment with a ticket to hand in. 

I found my way close to La Maison du Prince, where we were staying. We checked into this small historic B&B. Wi-Fi is not that strong, and I'm typing this on the iPhone where I'm not used to typing much of length. The lady was maybe wanting to be too helpful in directing me where to park, but it's worked out well overall. 

We did a little exploration of the village of Grimaud, my house was not as I remembered it.  We had dinner at the restaurant I remembered, l'Ecurie de la Marquise, very nice with steak as it got crowded with the colorful waiter, speaking so many languages, needing to give attention so many places. 

In the morning, a bit more exploration of Grimaud, then a trip to the other picturesque village of Ramtuelle. We had lunch there at Saveurs Sincères, a burrata of mozzarella with truffles. Resting it off, here are a few pictures from Grimaud. 

Genoa, over too fast

We woke up to a rainy day, our las day in Genoa.  For indoor attractions, we thought of the Aquarium and Palazzo Ducale, choosing the latter in the hope of some wandering of the Centro Storico.  

The Palazzo is a historic building that regularly has special exhibitions.  First we had coffee inside, then went to the show of Salgado photographs, great views of nature and primitive peoples.  

Then we wandered the small rainy streets a little, before finding the restaurant Da Ugo.  Had a nice meal there, green pasta with pesto and potatoes and green beans.  Then deep-fried baccalà (cod).   Even if the place looked modest, the price was about double that of Da Mario near us.  

Even though the rain had let up, we were ready to return home, and would leave Genoa without a whole lot of sightseeeing.  When we got home, in some of my browsing I found word of a half-marathon scheduled for tomorrow.  It will close our street, and it's hard to get word of whether we can get the bus to the airport to get our rental car.  I even caught a driver of the bus today, and he wasn't sure; no alternate routes have been announced.  I hope that, before the race starts, we'll be able to cross the street to the station, and get a train and shuttle bus, avoiding street traffic where the marathon is..

Here are some pictures of the rainy Centro Storico and a multi-ethnic street near where we're staying.

Settling in Genoa

Rough notes about our arrival in Genoa:  nice apartment in a multi-ethnic neighborhood near Principe station and the harbor.  Nice eating at the modest Trattoria Da Mario around the corner.

Main outings involved thinking of getting a smartphone for Italy at the main TIM store on the main shopping street, via XX Settembre.  When the model we'd chosen wasn't available, rather than make a rash decision while jet-lagged we slept on it and decided to go back to the last trip's plan and get an Italian SIM for Margaret's iPad.  

We also made two productive trips to the covered market, Mercato Orientale.  Yesterday we got a 24-hour pass for public transport, then today we found the metro shut down by a strike, and took taxis.  

Otherwise we've wandered around our neighborhood, and have one more day to wander the Centro Storico.  I have these pictures of the tiles under the porticos on via XX Settembre, the market, and the cruise ship terminal.

Getting to Italy

I was composing my account of the travel while in flight, and the file seems to be gone.  I’ll try to redo the basics of what I usually report.

First, we had a regional jet flight from Kansas City to New York LaGuardia. We’d been unable to check in online; it turned out the reason was a space in our last name on our passports, which was different from how American Airlines had it.  The flight went well, although we can see LGA’s bad reputation.  We hoped to get a Lyft ride, using a friend’s promo code, but I kept running into failures, for a weak connection or whatever, and went back to our established relation with Uber, found that car in the chaotic traffic in front of the terminal, and got a good ride.

At JFK we got in at a time of light activity for that terminal.  At a set of kiosks, a man started to help as Margaret asked for a wheelchair and we needed to recheck our bags.  There was a wait for that and, although we already had our boarding passes, we ran into the problem again of the space in our names. 

With the bags checked, the wheelchair assistant got us through security, chaotic even at that time of otherwise light activity at that terminal.  We were still six hours before departure, and planned to go to the Admirals Club, buying a 30-day membership, which would be useful also on our return.  I already knew that one of the two clubs was under renovation and we went to the other one, but precisely because of that renovation, the lounge dragon (term in common use) told us that they were not selling 30-day memberships there.

If we’d known that, that might have changed our plans not to leave the airport.  The attendant offered to have us stay in the wheelchair lounge, back in the other concourse.  He described it as comfortable, but when we got there, it had the atmosphere of a doctor’s cramped waiting room,and we were quickly out.  We found one place to sit down for lunch, stayed in that quiet concourse for a bit, then we went back to the other concourse with our gate, and the time didn’t drag on too much.

We had the excitement of boarding a transatlantic flight.  A large number of the passengers were Hasidic or other Orthodox Jews, we later learned on an extended family reunion trip to northern Italy.  We’d ordered one special meal, served quickly as there was a large number of special meals.  We got a decent amount of sleep.

We landed at Milan Malpensa and got to the gate at 8.30, 10 minutes late,and were hoping for everything to go well to make a train from the airport at 9.43.  We had a wheelchair waiting, and a big advantage was that attendant took us through passport control in the crew line, letting us bypass a long line.  Delivery of bags was being held up because the carousel was getting too full with the passengers still at passport control.  We eventually got the bags, and the attendant got us to the train station with time to spare.  He had me go to the staffed ticket window, where the agent, working for Trenord, only sold the tickets to Milano Centrale.  There was a machine for selling the tickets with seat assignments from Milan to Genoa.  I used the credit card that I had set up with a PIN, which that machine asked for.

The ride to Centrale went well, arriving at a track at the edge of the station.  With 45 minutes for the connection, we wanted to stop for a cappuccino, which appeared to call for leaving the platform area.  We got that, and re-entered the area, which now requires showing tickets.  Our train was the Thello, which continues into France.  That train went well, with a delay at the end.

We arrived at Genova Piazza Principe.  There was an elevator from the platform to the underpass, and we found our way to the via Andrea Doria exit from the station, just across from our booked apartment building.  We got the building manager, who showed us to our booked apartment, which looked fine.  The journey was complete.

Sadness, with more changes of plans

On January 10, 2016, my mother died following a stroke that she had over the Christmas period.  It is difficult to think of writing a full tribute, but it's impossible to measure the full scope of her influence on my life as a traveler.  Her interest in living in Europe meant that I spent formative years there.  My quick picking up of skills in practical matters such as navigation and transportation schedules complemented her talents in showing appreciation of the beauty of the places and picking up on local culture.  Margaret and I will look at our upcoming trip as a tribute to her as we revisit places where I lived with her.  In particular the trip to Grimaud will be interesting as I go back after so long and have conflicted views of my year there at 13.

So we've seen the consequences of making a booking so long in advance, that we continued to be notified of flight schedule changes.   Seeing where I left off in the last post on the flight changes.  In toying around with airfare sites as I often do, I found that the Kansas City-Miami flight was back on the schedule for our date of travel.  I called to see if we could get changed back to that, our original booking, regardless of SAAver award availability.  This agent was very helpful, calling another department to force a second award seat on the Miami-Milan flight, and it looked like a good booking for a comfortable trip.

Then the next day, I got an email of a new schedule change:  the flight from Miami would leave at 5.30 p.m. instead of 2.20, giving us seven hours in Miami.  We could take advantage of that with an outing to South Beach, but the later arrival in Milan would also be something of a concern in how we would get to Genoa.

Go ahead a couple of more months, and on the evening of my mother's death the airline sent a new email:  KC-Miami was off the schedule again, and they had us booked via Miami with a connection at Dallas/Fort Worth that was too short for comfort.  While trying to deal with getting back into routine things, I had to consider what effort I could make to get the least bad rebooking, which be going back to the option via Washington and the change of New York airports.  Then award availability turned up on the KC-LaGuardia flight, where service will just be starting two weeks before then.  I got that booking changed:  we'll go via New York, a change of airports but not an extra stop.

We'll have 7.5 hours to make the airport change.  We may just spend the time from getting to JFK in their Admirals Club, considering the hassle and transportation costs of leaving the airport, even for lunch within Queens.

We've also completed bookings at an apartment rental in Genoa, and a B&B in Grimaud, the limited option of staying in the village rather than the country or the faux fishing village of Port Grimaud.  The other thing that threw us for a loop was that I discovered that the Intercontinental Hotel de la Ville in Rome, where we were going to spend our last night on a program free night, would be closing down before we got there.  I was able to change that free night to the Indigo on via Giulia, in the area where Margaret and I went to school, so that should be nice.  At the time that I understand that people with reservations were notified of the closing, I couldn't have gotten that award night.  It has paid to keep looking at travel sites and boards.