Part III of Our Italy Trip--Going Our Separate Ways

During a lot of our trip to Italy, our group stayed together, but there were two days that we went our

Pirate Cruise

separate ways. One day, Bryan, Marc and Kira went on a pirate cruise, while I wandered around Vicenza. The other day, Bryan went on his own to Florence, Marc and Lisa went on a tour to the Dolomites, the mountains around Vicenza, while I went to Church, and then to lunch with friends. 

The pirate cruise (according to those who attended) was loads of fun. The cruise was catered so there was unlimited food and drinks. It was a family-friendly party atmosphere on the ship, with music and costumes.Fortunately, Kira had a friend, a girl her age who was the daughter of the tour guide’s sister, so she had a buddy to have fun with. Bryan was not into the alcohol, so he felt a little apart. Marc, though had a wonderful time.

The cruise went to several of the Venice islands, including 

Asiago

Murano where they got to see a demonstration of glass-blowing, and to Saint Marc’s square by water where they enjoyed the Carnivale in the square.
Marc & Kira’s tour went up to Asiago, where they make Asiago Cheese (and they learned how this is done). But Asiago is also a quaint town where the kids used to go skiing each Saturday from Vicenza. It is also the site of decisive battle during World War I, wherein over half a million-people died, before the Austrio-Hungary army was sent back from Italy’s Alps.

Marc enjoyed revisiting his old skiing sites, and at one restaurant they were served a complete seven-course meal, which was a treat. Then they were off to Marostica, Italy, a medieval walled city where every other year they have a life-size chess match in their square.

Then they stopped by a teacher’s house where 

they were served a wonderful full-blown tea, with numerous pastries, treats and other stuff.

Marc’s adventure in Florence was quite eventful! He had saved $200.00 of his birthday money with one aim in mind. He was going to buy a leather jacket in Florence, the leather capital of the world. He negotiated down a dealer with a brown goat-skinned leather jacket and was so proud when he got it for a third of its original price. He excitedly told Diana that he finally had a leather jacket like the ones Ed had gotten in Italy when we lived here. Diana then informed him that Ed had purchased all the leather jackets we had in Turkey when he went there on business.

Florence

Bryan did see the David statue and other of the historical sites 

in Florence and finally he was ready to come home. He’d taken the high-speed train from Vicenza and he’d made sure to save enough money to come home with—except he’d taken a cheaper fare there and when he went to the train station, only the executive suites were available—at a much-elevated cost. He didn’t have enough money to catch a train back to Vicenza.

Bryan's leather jacket

I’d given him a credit card with him, “just in case,” but I’d accidentally given him a debit card, instead and I couldn’t remember the pin. He texted me and then called me in a panic—What was he to do? Luckily, while he was talking to me, an opening in a cheaper train came up and he grabbed it and came back to Vicenza.

My Sunday on the other hand was wonderful. I walked Bryan to the train station, then took a taxi to the LDS chapel, which was a little way out of Vicenza. I got there early and just sat in the beautiful chapel and thought of all the places we’d had church when we lived there 30 years ago. We’d once held church above a car dealership, and in other diverse places. Now they had a wonderful suite of rooms above some offices in an industrial area. There was a beautiful chapel, and all the other rooms that a chapel has.

Vicenza Chapel

I was so glad to see friends from when we lived there, Maria Grazia (who talked in church that day) and others that I hadn’t seen for 30 years. When I went to Relief Society, the president introduced me as “Sorella Beth” and Rosetta cried from the back, “Sorella Beth Dayley?” and ran up and hugged me. It reminded me of reunion Alma and the sons of Mosiah had after years doing missionary work. Alma 17:2 says: “Alma did rejoice exceedingly to see his brethren; and what added more to his joy, they were still his brethren in the Lord; yea, and they had waxed strong in the knowledge of the truth; for they were men of a sound understanding and they had searched the scriptures diligently, that they might know the word of God.”

Restaurant

The lady I wanted to see most wasn’t there, she was at a ward conference in Padua as president of the Stake Young Women’s Organization. She came by later that afternoon and visited me. Silvia Marini had been my counselor when they made a ward out of the two branches—the American military branch and the Italian branch. Silvia had been my Italian counselor and went with me to visit the homes of the Italian sisters, while an American sister was my American counselor. Silvia was very fluent in English and a great asset to me in my calling.

Today Silvia’s three children were all grown (and her daughter was in the ward there with her children. Silvia had continued to dance and she currently teaches dancing and Pilates on the

View from Rotunda

American base where her English is a wonderful asset, and also teaches Pilates in downtown Vicenza. She certainly doesn’t look 30 years older, and it was so fun to talk to her.

After church, one of Marc’s high-school friends who we’d had dinner with, Danielle, picked me up at the church and took me to lunch with her Mom at beautiful restaurant in the hills above Vicenza. Afterwards we explored the Rotunda, one of Palladio’s masterpieces, which Thomas Jefferson modeled his home, Monticello after.

Map of Vicenza--see how close the Teatro is to our hotel

Later that afternoon, Danielle dropped me off at the “Teatro Olimpico” which was just around the corner from our apartment. She didn’t drop me off at our apartment because it is in the walking-only area of Vicenza and has only one small one-way street going through it which is hard to navigate. I wasn’t concerned even though I’d had such a difficult time navigating the streets the day before. I pulled out my Google Maps—and got lost again. I didn’t get as lost as the day before, but I kept coming back to the Basilica (on the other end of Corso Palladio) and I’d try again to find my way home. An hour and a half later, I stumbled home, and swore I’d never try to find my way around Vicenza every again!!!!

That night I developed a terrible cough and fever, and was really sick.

Kira on pirate cruise

Kira, Marc & Bryan 

St. Mark's Square

Add caption

View from ship

Marc on ship

Battle Memorial in Asiago

Kira at 7-course dinner

Part of the dinner

Marostica Bridge

Marostica courtyard

Marostica

Formal tea

Marc on ship

leather market

Kira steering pirate ship

Our street

Back of Monte Berico

Rotunda

Part of Rotunda

Vineyard

Going Back in Time to Vicenza

Vicenza, Italy is a city in Northern Italy that with its metropolitan area (270,000) is the third-largest Italian industrial center as measured by the value of its exports (according to Wikipedia in 2008). It is 37 miles west of Venice and 120 miles east of Milano. It is at the

base of the Alps, and has the  Bacchiglione River running through it.

Vicenza was settled in 350 B. C. by tribes who resembled Etruscan and Greek more than the Celts of northwest Italy that they naturally assimilated. By 157 B. C. Vicenza was a Roman center, whose citizens held Roman citizenship. Its name Vicetia or Vincentia, means "victorious."

We arrived in Vicenza as a family in 1984 when my husband was stationed at the United States Military base located there. My three teenagers went downtown Vicenza often. 

Our hotel room

30 years later we stayed in downtown Vicenza, on the Stradella Stefano, on the very edge of the auto-free zone. We used “Home-away” a program that rents out people’s apartments, as our rental. It was much more personable than a hotel, and far more family friendly. Our 3-bedroom apartment in Vicenza may not have appealed to many people—it was the quintessential authentic Italy apartment of forty years ago, like the ones our Italian friends lived in. It had the tall skinny windows, the armoire with a curtain for a closet, and felt REAL. But it was modern in some important aspects—it had a TV, and an internet modem.

We decided to explore downtown Vicenza, and Marc had an infallible memory. He could show us where to go and how to get back, whereas to me all the tiny alleys confused me. (That isn’t hard, I am navigationally challenged.) Vicenza was the home of Andrea Palladio, a 16^th century

at a cafe the night we arrived in Vicenza

classical architect and is the home to 28 of his works. The most famous was the Teatro Olimpico, begun in 1580, but other works, including the Basilica Palladiana were in the central plaza, near a lot of the popular cafes and restaurants, such as the Piazza de Signori, El Paradisio (underneath which were the remains of a Roman bath). But Marc couldn’t locate “The Cab” which was one of his favorite spots.

We had to shop at Benetton’s a store which is unfamiliar here, but one of the kids’ favorite stores way back when. We found the bargain floor (on the top), and Marc, Kira and Marc had fun buying stuff at clearance prices!

Bryan trying on clothes at Benettons

Just as Carnivale is big in Venice, its younger cousin, Vicenza had its own kind of Carnivale in the square. It was fun to see its miniature celebration.

The next day, Marc, Kira, and Bryan went to a pirate cruise in Venice, and I was left to explore Vicenza on my own. I purchased a pass to all the museums in the city and began discovering my forgotten Vicenza history. When we lived in Italy, I completed my bachelor’s degree in English with a minor in History. I took a series of classes on art and culture in Italy. During the week, we’d study and talk about the different art of a specific city, and then on Saturdays, we’d go and visit them (all except Rome, which was too far). 

It was a wonderful way to learn and I took my memory of what I had learned of Vicenza. I’d forgotten its Roman roots, and one museum showed the statues, art, mosaics of forgotten Rome. The Teatro Olimpico is a world-famous Palladian theatre. It doesn’t look like much outside, but the inside is a treasure trove of paintings, statues, and the wonderful 3-D set.

I was amazed as I wandered around Tempio de Santa Corona, where a fabulous

Bryan at Vicenza's Basilica

Renaissance painting of Christ being baptized is just there—on display for anyone to see. I remembered it from my portfolio of church pictures, but to see it completely filling the wall stunned me. It reminded me again of my astonishment years ago, to see many great Renaissance paintings that you are familiar with because of their great beauty—and they are just hanging on the walls of the churches. You don’t have to go to museums to see them—just go to church (which are museums of course).

By 3:00 p.m., I was getting tired and decided to find my way back home—except I couldn’t figure out where I was and where to go. I am a visual person, so a paper map where I can follow the lines is best, (but I’d left my maps of Vicenza at home) and all I had was my Google Maps. It must have been set on the maps for cars (and cars can’t navigate auto-free zone of Vicenza) because Google Maps kept leading me further and further astray—out of the city and into the roads.

Besides, my right knee, the one I’d had replaced six years ago, started really hurting, like a painful apostrophe I was going the wrong way. Sometimes, I’d get near the Basilica, but then, I’d been out on the wide roads outside the city center. Finally, close to tears, with hunger, pain and frustration—I stopped by a Pharmacia; I purchased a knee brace and asked them to call me a taxi to take me home. 

I was very frustrated because despite all my preparations, my body had given up on me. Because of my arthritis and bursitis, I’d had injections in my bursitis hips and my arthritic left knee; I’d had an epidural injection, in my lower back, my upper neck and my sacroiliac joints, and took care of my arthritic feet. Then to be let down by my replaced knee that was supposed to be good, really upset me. Or it may have been that I was coming down sick, which I discovered the next day. 

Back side of Monte Berico

Vicenza Carnivale

Piazza de Signori

Ancient Roman sculptures unearthed in Vicenza

Vicenza's streets

Teatro Olimpico

restaurant uni-sex toilet

Crazy streets

Part of Vicenza's medieval walls

wandering around Vicenza at night

Revisiting Ancient History—our visit back to Italy

Thomas Wolfe said, “You Can't Go Home Again” in his novel by the same name, describing how you can’t revisit the past: “You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood ... back home to a young man's dreams of glory and of fame ... back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time – back home to the escapes of Time and Memory."[1]

My son Marc and I attempted to revisit our past of 30 years ago, by going to Milan, Vicenza

(our home for three years), and the Venetian Carnivale. For me it was a realization that I can go back to a place, but it’s never the same—it has changed with time just as I have personally changed while living in various other places. It is like looking out the window of a fast-moving train and glimpsing pictures from the past, superimposed on the present.

Our main purpose in the trip was that so that my son, Marc, could show his 18-year-old daughter. Kira, and I could show my youngest son, Bryan, who was born in Vicenza, the land of Bryan’s birth. It was an adventure that emphasized how old I am.

Even before I left, I felt very anxious, which is not like me. The closer departure came, the more anxious I became. Finally, I asked my sons-in-law to give me a priesthood blessing. I felt better after that, but was always looking over my shoulder waiting for something bad to happen.

Bryan and I flew out of Salt Lake City, and met Marc and Kira (who came from Nashville, Tennessee) in New Jersey where we all departed for Milan, Italy together.

The flight was okay, except for the food, and we landed early in the morning of a new day. Marc had planned for the first hotel, Mariott’s “Moxy” Hotel which had a shuttle going to the main terminal of Milan’s Malpensa Airport. We collected our bags, dropped them off at the hotel and began our Milan adventure. We took the train to downtown Milan, and began exploring.

We saw some outstanding street art, before we spent some time at a museum where an
uncompleted Michelangelo statue was the main feature. It was our introduction to Schizophrenic Milan.

I had studied Milan (back when) and knew that it was a city created by force and intrigue among the various aristocracy, especially the Viscontis, who ruled Milan for 130 years. Milan was just one of several city-states like Genoa, Florence,  and Venice, that fought for dominance in the area. Condottiere were paid mercenaries and sold their skills to the highest bidders; it was one of the greatest of these, a friend of the banker, Cosmo de Medici, Francesco Sforza, who grabbed the reins of Milan and became the Duke of Milan.

Sforza Castle

Sforza’s Castle was like a rough-hewn box filled with magnificent treasures inside.  The castle shows the battle scars of many generations. But inside the huge castle doors, there were wonderful exhibits of art and history. There was a large inner courtyard but all the museums, displays, exhibits were in the elegant rooms built against the massive walls. I could envision ancient chaos and business in the courtyard where now there were only lawns, cement and tourists.

The art was often Medieval, and contrasted

with the beauty of the Renaissance statuary. I took a photo of Marc, with his name-sake, Marcus Aurelius, Roman emperor and philosopher in one area. Another area  contrasts a medieval Madonna statue with the beautiful Renaissance Maddona that surpassed it. The castle was a maze of statuary, stained glass, tapestries, ancient art, armor, and weapons. I could imagine it in many ways, but not as a place where families lived. Inside were a few beautiful arched masonry windows.

Marcus Aurelius (left) & Marc

We moved across the street from the castle, saw some wonderful fountains and had our first real Italian pizza, which Marc and Bryan said tasted nothing like real pizza, but was “tourist pizza.”

Then we were onto the Duomo, Milan’s massive cathedral. The Gothic cathedral took nearly six centuries to complete. It is the largest church in Italy (the larger St. Peter's Basilica is in the State of Vatican City) and the fifth largest in the world. The spires draw one’s attention to the heavens, as all medieval cathedrals do, but includes ornate flying buttresses that would have appalled a Gothic architect. You either love or hate the art of the cathedral.

Wandering inside the huge building, there was a central entryway, with alcoves to either

Bryan, Marc & Kira in front of Duoma

side. It was like wandering inside a series of sarcophaguses, enormous stained glass windows, altars and marble passion plays. Alongside this was a single confession box that somehow seemed out of place. But then the cathedral never felt like a church.

Across the street from the Duomo is the famous Galleria Vittoria Emanuele II, a massive shopping mall of high class Milanese products. I took a photo of Kira next to a Gucci store and Marc upstairs in the Gucci store looking at $1,000.00 shoes.

It was Fashion Week in Milano while we were there, and Kira was interested in all the fashions we saw in and out of the shops. Years ago, when we lived in Italy, the Officers’ Wives Club arranged for a trip to Milan and its fashion shows and I recall only how dark and close it was, and the drastic fashions on twig-thin models with wild hair and darkly colored eyes.

The Moxy Hotel we stayed in was unlike any hotel I’d ever seen, flashy purple neon lights, tables set up for all kinds of games for guests to play, and a “Let’s Have Fun” attitude. There was a café/bar in the lobby and lots of action was going on everywhere.

Early the next morning, we took a high-speed train 

from Milano to Vicenza, our next stop.

Galleria

Bryan in the Duomo

Marc, Kira & Bryan with fountain

Kira in front of Gucci

Bryan oogling $1,000 shoes

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[i] Madden, David (2012). ""You Can't Go Home Again": Thomas Wolfe's Vision of America.". Thomas Wolfe Review. 36 (1/2): 116–126