This is the twelfth and final entry in the Europe series.

A seven-hour bus ride took us from Venice to Rome. I must have slept for six hours, discounting a lunch stop and an additional pee break. The merciless wave of heat greeted us as we alighted at Piazza del Popolo (People’s Square). Armed with bottles of water, we embarked on another walking tour in the heart of Western civilisation.

The Pantheon built two thousand years ago — dedicated to all the gods of Ancient Rome.

Oculus — for light and ventilation.

Most unfriendly, refusing photo opps unless you paid for a ride.

Trevi Fountain — largest Baroque fountain in Rome.

Throw three coins and you’ll be sure to return. Uh huh. They find thousands of euros in there each day. I think it’s a fraud.

Grom — one of the most famous gelato shops in Italy.

The lady in white was engaged to bring us around on our final day in Rome. She was hilarious. “You must stick with me and not walk off on your own. Or you’ll be LOST in Vatican City FOREVER!” She noticed my look of disbelief and replied, “Well… Actually there are two exits. I’m just afraid you don’t know whether to turn left or right.”

I’m a free thinker, but I’ve watched Angels and Demons, so there was a minimal bit of familiarity as I walked into Vatican City. Yes, I knew what a papal conclave was about.

The Creation of Adam on the ceiling of Sistine Chapel. (From the internet.)
I could have sat there all morning admiring Michelangelo’s remarkable masterpieces. He must had desperately needed a physiotherapist to soothe his neck and arm muscles from looking up and painting on the ceiling all day and night.

St. Peter’s Basilica — largest church in the world.


It was really warm in Rome that day, and I spent an insane amount of money getting overpriced drinks from street vendors. To my new friends who asked if it was just as horrendously hot in Singapore, I replied, “It may shoot above 33 degrees once in a while, but I don’t walk around under the sun in Singapore for three straight hours!”

The Colosseum — largest Roman amphitheatre ever built.

This must be the iconic monument in Rome — for its sheer size and achievement in engineering and construction, and its historical usage and importance.

Footnote: I really like the tan.

From the Colosseum, we headed to the Roman Forums. The structures — or whatever’s left — were really impressive, but the sweltering heat was a major distraction. The guide claimed it was 40 degrees, though I thought 34-36 sounded more likely. Because she was so nice and I was genuinely interested in the history, I tried to give her my full attention. But I failed.

“Look at those pillars. Imagine that a temple once stood there.” Huh? I did the most touristy thing ever by purchasing a pictorial book which had overlapping pages showing the current state of things and artists’ impressions of what it should have been. There’s even a DVD.

Temple of the Divine Julius — where Caesar was cremated.

At 5 P.M. on 20.06.2012, I hugged farewell to my new friends. I had taken a cold shower upon returning to the hotel. I think they had done the same thing too.

Group photo taken in Florence.

Months before the working trip, I knew I had to extend my stay in Europe. Because of several issues — which had already been resolved, by the way — going on then, I wasn’t in the mood to do any serious planning. So I opted for the easiest way out, which is to sign up for a group tour. The thing about an international agency package was that you could meet people from around the world. I made friends from America, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Lebanon, South Africa and the Philippines — all of whom I otherwise wouldn’t have met.

It was fun trading stories over meals and well, turning into a temporary tourism ambassador of sorts, for Singapore seemed to be an exotic destination for most of them. None of them — except for our Southeast Asian counterpart from Manila — could exactly point out Singapore’s location on the map, but all of them knew for sure that we weren’t in China. I did my best in debunking some myths and highlighted the fact that the vast majority of tourists return home safe and sound — without a fine or corporal punishment.

But I’m rather sure I wouldn’t do such a packaged tour in the future. I need decent hotels. Period. I can survive without bathrobes and bedroom slippers, but I can’t handle gaudy ancient rooms — which popped up half the time in Italy. The so-called four star hotel in Milan turned off my aircon at midnight, while the disastrous motel in Rome — which I complained about in a previous entry — took two hours sorting out the faulty aircon before showing me to another room.

Touchscreen controls in the elevator!

Hotel Twenty One called itself an “art hotel” — whatever that means. The comfortable room came with a bathroom decorated with sleek black tiles. I need something like that. Thanks.

Via dei Condotti — the Orchard Road of Rome, if I may so call it.

Throughout the three weeks in Europe, there was some hesitation in flashing my credit card. I had plenty of time, I thought. And I didn’t really want to lug things across various cities. The final shopping was done at Via dei Condotti. It was where I found the elusive Bottega Veneta boutique, and the Louis Vuitton was humongous — way more impressive than the one at Champs Élysées!

Dear Europe, I hope you emerge from this economic crisis unscathed. Thank you for the wonderful memories.

- Surrounded by water with occasional floods;
- Reliance on imported goods;
- Got rich by being an important trading and commercial port…

Don’t the above sound familiar? Venice — home of Antonio Vivaldi, Marco Polo, and the oldest international film festival in the world — is breathtakingly beautiful. It benefitted from its prime position along trading routes and was Queen of the Mediterranean. The fairy tale of the rich crashed after the Americas were discovered.

The vast majority of Venetians have moved to the mainland because of high costs of living and obvious inconvenience. We didn’t stay in Venice, but took a 30-minute train ride, followed by a boat ride to St. Mark’s Square. I was back in full touristy mode and paid total attention to the local guide during the city tour and took triple the number of photographs compared to the previous day.

Just stand and stare. It’s worth the trouble getting there.

The Winged Lion of St. Mark — symbol of Venice.

Here is the answer if you were wondering why the top prize in the Venice Film Festival is the Golden Lion.

St Mark’s Campanile.

I muttered a quick thank-you when I learnt that the only way up was by the elevator, for the staircase was closed. It was extremely windy up there, and we got a bird’s-eye view of one of the most romantic cities in the world. Totally worth the couple of euros we paid. But it wasn’t funny when the deafening bell went off at the top of the hour. It was a good thing we were up there at 2 P.M.. I might have suffered permanent eardrum damage if I was there two hours earlier!

Piazza San Marco (St. Mark’s Square) — de facto party venue.

St. Mark’s Basilica.

Doge’s Palace.

The guards in Doge’s Palace were more stringent than any of the places I went to in the last two and a half weeks. There was absolutely no chance of taking stealth pictures of the glaring golden ceilings and extravagant furnishings within. The Republic of Venice — though much smaller in size than its Roman and French counterparts — had an implausible liking for all things ritzy.

Peeking through a hole on The Bridge of Sighs.

The clever Venetian rulers had it all planned nicely. Interrogation, sentencing and imprisonment of criminals were done under one roof — no way for anyone to hijack prison vehicles (or vessels, in this case). A prisoner banished to the dungeons would pass this enclosed bridge and sigh, for it might be the last time he ever saw daylight.

Venice is a gigantic maze full of bridges, waterways and little alleys, which makes it one of the easiest places in the world to get lost. It is perfect for people who had always wanted to get off the beaten track. Just walk in any direction, for there will always be a tiny shop or quaint café you might fancy. And just by putting in a wee amount of effort — find colourful buildings + sky + water — you can get postcard worthy photographs with a basic point-and-shoot camera. Once you’re done for the day, simply look for the directional signs to get back to St. Mark’s Square. It is virtually impossible to miss those signs.

There are no cars in Venice. The essential services have their own boats, like this one for the Police in its corresponding blue colour.

They certainly weren’t kidding when they said Venice is an expensive city. One could get by grabbing a takeaway pizza or sandwich for a few euros. But I was rather tired from the walking and opted for a sit-down lunch. I was mentally prepared but still raised my eyebrows slightly when told to pay nearly €80 for two pastas, a plate of calamari, a bottle of still water and two Cokes. That, of course, included a cover charge for just sitting down in the restaurant.

If you still have money to blow, this mask costs a few thousand euros.

I was utterly ashamed when my new friend from Australia gleefully pointed this out to me and exclaimed, “Oh look! Someone in your country was here first!” Ladies and gentlemen, it is very unlikely that you will be caned for vandalism in most parts of the world, but please do not embarrass the rest of us by putting your stupidity on display. Thanks.

The mandatory gondola ride. And no, he didn’t sing.

Five villages with colourful houses built on steep cliffs… The picturesque Cinque Terre is full of rustic charm. Trains and ferries ply the route, and like the protected city centre of Florence, there is no way you can drive around unless you are a resident.

At the little village of Portofino.

Some cheese with herbs to go with some bread before we set off to Cinque Terre. Gooey in a very nice way.

I like walking into cafes and not knowing what I’ll find in there.

Many bought pesto sauce here.

Those rocks look really uncomfortable to lie on, no?

The ferry stopped briefly at each of the four villages before we disembarked at Riomaggiore. There was the beach where one could swim or just bake in the sun. I was kept busy looking for shampoo and shower foam (haha!) and I got a SPF 20+ lip balm before retreating into a café for yet another cup of coffee. The fatigue levels were peaking, and I remarked that you really require some stamina to do such a long trip.

Train ride to La Spezia.

This hotel probably just went through some massive refurbishment. Other than an ancient cupboard and the heavy brass key, everything else was new. There was a brand new television and a brand new fridge. It wasn’t switched on and had the operating manual lying inside, and I felt a little guilty turning the thing on just to chill a single can of Coke. I must have slept really early that night because I didn’t write much in my journal. Heh.

The next day, we reached Milan — the fashion capital and economic powerhouse of Italy. I was expecting something like Paris, but I was wrong. People were not necessarily as well dressed, and the service standards demonstrated the city’s total reliance on its domestic population. They didn’t need tourists in Milan at all, and they certainly didn’t put in any efforts in handling customers who didn’t speak their own language.

I was so miffed in Prada’s flagship store. I had to literally beg for their attention to get me something. And this haughty girl wasn’t entirely pleasant. So, I pointed at a few more items before shrugging my shoulders and declared in a most condescending tone that I didn’t like any of those.

That episode aside, I concluded that I didn’t like Milan. The designer stores were spread out along three streets arranged in a triangular fashion. You had to walk an unusually long distance before you reach the next boutique. The people in Paris, Singapore and almost everywhere else had this sorted out long ago by clustering all the high end chains together and thus creating a more conducive shopping experience.

I was astonished to see the massive number of counterfeit items in Milan, something I didn’t see in Paris. Surely you have to protect your own labels by clamping down on these, no? And what amazed me further were tourists asking if those were authentic items. “Of course they’re real, silly woman. Newest alfresco outlet co-owned by Prada and Gucci!” Duh.

Duomo di Milano.

This Gothic cathedral is the fourth largest in the world, and of course we would remember this as the place where Sammi Cheng filmed the movie in which she wanted to marry a rich guy. Mary (Bukoh) was there a few days before me, and she couldn’t go in because the Pope was there. So I egged her to write a letter to the Pope, demanding a free visit to the Vatican City because he disrupted her travel plans. Heh.

Another reason why I didn’t like Milan was because of the sheer number of people stopping tourists in their tracks. Apart from the counterfeit goods, there were people trying to stuff grain into my hands, asking me to feed the pigeons. I’m sure they would have asked for a crazy amount of money. And there were people peddling friendship bands (?!) in your face. Argh.

I observed them from afar and I couldn’t quite decide if I loathed them or empathised with them. Most of them were probably illegal immigrants who left home to seek greener pastures. The question then was, did they have a choice?

Arco della Pace (Arc of Peace) corresponding to the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. Much smaller though.

Awesome Angus Beef Burger in Rinascenter.

If only it tasted as good as it looked.

A number of lists have appeared throughout history, each trying to name the “Seven Wonders of the World“. Since “Seven Wonders of the Ancient World” don’t do the tourism industry any good, people have come up with “Seven Wonders of the Middle Ages“, “Architectural Wonders of the Middle Ages“, and even try to make a distinction between “Natural Wonders” and “Manmade Wonders” and list seven under each category. The Leaning Tower of Pisa appears on some of these listings, so I guess this place is really significant. One thing’s for sure, Piazza del Duomo or the “Cathedral Square”, where the Tower is situated, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The de facto reason why foreigners flock to Pisa.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa.

The customary thing to do— coming up with all sorts of wacky poses.

The much neglected Baptistery beside the Leaning Tower.

There are at least fifty leaning towers — either intentionally built, or tilting due to construction errors and other factors — but this must be the most famous of them all. The Italians sought international help in the 1960s. It must have been a rather tough request, “Please help us! We can’t let the Tower collapse. And no, we cannot straighten it, or else tourists will not come here ever again!”

I have friends who eat at McDonald’s in every city they visit. I’m not like that. But I was craving for something familiar after being away for so long.

Florence is absolutely charming. It is the birth place of Florence Nightingale and many other great historical figures, and it was where Leonardo da Vinci painted Mona Lisa in 1503. I have to go back to Florence again someday.

I like pizza a lot, and none of the many slices I had in Italy were disappointing.

No one said you can’t have gelato at 10 A.M. right?

We got lost in the tiny streets of Florence the night before. The locals we approached responded with friendly smiles but none could point us in the correct direction. We walked for 45 minutes before we heaved a collective sigh of relief. After a well rested evening, the brunch in this random cafe kickstarted the day. I had hit the two-week mark in Europe by then, so the sleeping in was greatly appreciated. We signed up for a walking city tour but got bored after thirty minutes, which resulted in me dragging my friend in the opposite direction once I saw that familiar sign.

Florence— Home of Gucci.

I quickly realised it wasn’t a good idea to lug a huge shopping bag when we were about to enter a series of museums. It was really cumbersome, and I didn’t want to attract the attention of pickpockets.

Galleria degli Uffizi.

The House of Medici had an incredible history. They produced four Popes and owned a bank, and they defeated their rivals to become the most powerful family in Florence back then. They were also one of the main paymasters responsible for the Italian Renaissance. Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Galileo and many other artists worked with them. For instance, the Pope who commissioned Michelangelo to paint the Sistine Chapel was a Medici.

The Medici headquarters is now one of the famous art museums in Italy. Portraits and statues of the Medici patriarchs line the main corridors, and museum staff are deployed in each gallery to shout at visitors who defy the no camera rule.

#1 Painting in Uffizi: The Birth of Venus by Botticelli. (Lifted from the internet)

Palazzo Vecchio.

Piazza della Signoria, just in front of Palazzo Vecchio, was the focal point in town. Huge status line the square, including the world famous David by Michelangelo.

Replica of David in its original position, and The Rape of the Sabine Women by Giambologna.

A sculpture is merely a block of stone if you don’t understand its history. I was totally fascinated by Michelangelo’s David. Yes, he’s the hero who defeated the giant Goliath. What set this David apart from the rest was that he wasn’t holding Goliath’s beheaded remains like past interpretations. He looks tense and ready for combat, likely depicting a pre-battle stance. More importantly, he was staring towards Rome, the Florentine Republic’s biggest adversary.

Since we were already in Florence, it would be silly not to see the real David, now housed in Galleria dell’ Accademia. People queue for hours, unless a reservation was made. My friend did everything before departure, so we were inside in a jiffy.

Galleria dell’ Accademia. This is David.

I was totally awed. How did Michelangelo turn a single block of marble into this detailed masterpiece with his magical hands? David measures a whopping 5.17 metres, and completely overshadows everything and anything in its path.

I came back to do some further reading, and suspected that the David I saw could be another replica! It states on Wikitravel that “the gallery often showcases replicas while doing restoration works. You can tell because the toenail is intact for David, for example.” A deranged man hammered David’s left foot in 1991. The one I saw that day had a complete toenail. Oh well…

Stop #2: A science museum with Galileo Galilei in the spotlight.

High end jewellery stores on a bridge.

Rozz commented the other day that all pasar malams in the world look the same and sell the same stuff.

It was a beautiful day in Florence. I was glad I didn’t suffer from the Stendhal Syndrome. It sounds hilarious, but it is a real medical condition- “dizziness caused by being overwhelmed by Florence’s fantastic art.”

Yet another replica of David. I can’t remember the name of this place.

Restaurant Recommendation:
Ristorante Montebuoni.

Living in a cosmopolitan city like Singapore exposes us to many varied forms of dining. I’m no stranger to dinners with a view, but I had yet another exceptional night of fun clicking glasses and laughing loudly with my new friends under the stars.

Elderly gentlemen serving a crossbreed of pig and boar.

Rockhard biscuit soaked in dessert wine.

I wasn’t that eager to return to the hotel after such a wonderful evening. I didn’t mind the cheap naked lightbulbs in the washroom, but I was floored over the fact that the aircon was installed behind the curtains. Why?!