Typhoid Ali begets Typhoid Alex, anxiety and a cheerful boat ride

Woke up to our first day in Cinque Terre with the old pal sore throat present but a bit better. I think it's because it and its friend cough found a new host in Alex. It's weird, I've been sick for over two weeks and I thought Alex would have caught it by now, but then I remembered that he's been taking steroids the past week for his back, which weakens the immune system. Alas. You'd think there was no fun going on around here with all of this illness and leg pain and all, but it's not true. We are having a splendid time, mostly.

The B&B where we are staying is called Il Timone Lerta, and it's fantastic. If you ever happen to be in Cinque Terre, this is the place to stay. You must commit to climbing 103 steps to get there, but its' worth it. The views of Monterosso go on forever and the breakfasts, home made by Mama, the owner's mom, are excellent. We breakfasted on fresh pastries, eggs, fruit and toast. And then, we retired to our room to rest. I decided that some very purposeful down time was needed to help get rid of the nasty bug, my Italian companion. And perhaps resting early would help Alex get over his ailment sooner. So we napped and read books and listened to music until about 2:30 PM.

We had a boat trip to see the five cities of Cinque (five) Terre (lands). Alex let me know last night that he was having anxiety about going on the boat trip and he was still grappling with it today. I lured him out of the B&B with the promise of good food, and that we found. Pesto is the specialty of this region of Italy and we were treated to the freshest and tastiest pesto of the trip. We also consumed a gelato/honey/whiskey dessert that was yum.

After lunch, we had an hour or so before meeting for the boat trip. Alex's anxiety was ramping up, resulting in an aversion to doing anything but sitting somewhere. That somewhere turned out to be Monterosso's beautiful black and white church in the center of the city. Anxiety is insidious. It's a thief and a liar. It tells sufferers that the worst possible thing will happen to them in a given situation. It robs the present time, always ruminating on what happened in the past or what may happen in the future. It adds physical symptoms like upset stomach, headache, rapid heart beat and sweating to the terrible mix of thoughts circling in the mind. I know about this because I've managed anxiety and OCD all my life. But I don't know what Alex's anxiety is like and it's so hard for me to watch him suffer and struggle. Today, we were in one of the most beautiful places on earth, getting ready to go on a sunset boat trip and Alex could think only of getting back to the safety of our room. He was convinced that he would have a panic attack on the boat and not be able to get off. It had been on his mind all day, so much so that he wasn't 'present' for anything else we'd done. And now, in the church, he was positive that he couldn't face the boat. After about a half hour of talking through the anxiety, trying ways to lessen it and debating what to do, Alex decided to head back to the room on his own and I was to take the tour. But then he became worried that he wouldn't be able to handle being alone with his anxiety (not to mention the ever present depression). Plan two was for both of us to stay back. It was tough.

Finally, shortly before departure, Alex couldn't bear thinking about me missing the trip, so he pushed through his fear and we headed towards the harbor. I wasn't saying much to him, wanting to give him space to process and to work through his emotions on his own. We didn't talk to each other again until about 15 minutes into the trip, when he turned to me with a smile and said, "I feel better." Alex wins over anxiety today.

After the horrible ramp up to the trip, the boat ride was really lovely. The views of the towns from the water was stunning and our stop in Vernazza for tapas was tasty and fun. We were talking with a couple from London and of course Brexit and Trump came up. It was interesting to hear each other's opinions about politics in our respective countries. On the way back to Monterosso, we were treated to the loveliest sunset, casting a glow over Cinque Terre and coloring the waters all shades of beautiful. Alex said it was the first time he was awed by something on this trip. He was in the present, right there, drinking in the beauty of that boat ride.

The return of devil's throat, three trains and sent to bed without supper

Said goodbye to Snoopy sheets, dark bathrooms and mosquitos (they have not played a starring role in this blog, but today I woke up with 5 bites on my face!!) in the house this morning. I woke up feeling sickly, with a searing sore throat rejoining my never ending illness repertoire. We had our last vaporetto ride, an unsatisfying two stop crowded trip to the train station and then sought out food. The restaurant at the train station surprisingly had decent food on its menu (no McDonald's!) and we dined on pasta and pizza. Well, Alex dined and I choked down pasta with wincing pain. We ordered gelato served in a bowl with coffee and whipped cream. It felt so good on the throat and was so tasty. Alex said we should order dessert seconds, and I figured that it would be throat therapy. When the waiter heard our request for another round, we both thought that perhaps he were joking. No one orders seconds of dessert after all. This theory proved to be true when 15 minutes later, no seconds appeared and our waiter was wondering if we needed our check. Train coming soon, we opted to pay the bill and find our platform.

We took a lovely, air conditioned train with ample room to Milan, about a two hour ride from Venice and it was perfect for napping and nursing the super villains cough and sore throat. But in Milan, we changed to regional trains with no air, not room and no fun. Two and a half hours of interesting but uncomfortable training followed. Oh the passengers we watched. There was the really tall German guy with the endless supply of seeds and nuts to eat, who, if you made eye contact with him, gave you a smile just like Will Ferrel's character in Elf. Then there was the girl sitting next to me and across from Alex, who slept in an amazingly contorted position in the tiny seats we were allocated. She turned out to be very friendly and helped us get to our next stop successfully. 

By train number three, another local from Genova to Monterosso al Mare, we were very hungry and I was quite sick. The last ride was similar to the previous regional train, but this one felt better because the weather had cooled down (what's with 85 degree temps in late September??) and the train was less crowded. At 8:00 PM we finally arrived at our destination, Cinque Terre. The terre we are staying is is Monterosso al Mare. I've been here before with my mom in 2013, and Alex and I were staying at the same B&B this time. We met Francesco and his wife Fredderica at their bar, Fast Bar, and then took the 100 step walk up to our beautiful little home in the hills. All settled, Alex wanted to get dinner. We hadn't eaten since Venice. But I was feeling really unwell and tired and the thought of going back down the 100 steps again was too much for me. Alex considered going on his own, but in the end, he also was not up for the hike to food. And so we went to sleep, hungry and in my case, stubbornly still sick. Adventures await tomorrow!

Three amazing museums, buying art and trickery

Our last day full day in Venice was spent separately, with Alex museumed out me itching to see more. I started early, taking a short walk to the Jewish ghetto area of Venice, close to our home base. I learned that over the course of WW2, over 200 Venetian Jewish people were taken away to camps and only eight returned after the war. The memorials in the ghetto were beautiful and somber. As I walked the square, three boys were playing, running across the square in glee, adding a welcome sound of innocence and joy. The Jewish Museum had intense security, more than any other place I'd been to on the trip so far. All items went through a scanner and each person was searched with a wand metal detector. I toured the exhibits on my own, reading about life in the ghetto pre and post war and seeing beautiful artifacts from many different time periods.

Afterwards, I went on yet another pharmacy hunt to secure more supplies for the endless cough and sore throat. I found one and as I headed towards it, I saw this tiny printmaker's shop with excellent art in the window, so after buying my lozenges, I headed back there, waited until the propieter showed up, and enjoyed an excellent art buying experience. She had many prints with Venetian themes, but not the over-the-top stuff sold on the streets. Her work was quiet and lovely and small, perfect for traveling with and perfect for our tiny home. I bout three items, so glad that I happened across her little shop.

Back at the flat, Alex and I enjoyed our standard breakfast of bread and cheese and prosciutto (Alex). I'm really going to miss the bakery and meat/cheese shop near our home. I've gotten to know the shopkeepers during the past week and can imagine living as a European, getting fresh food every day instead of going on huge grocery shopping trips.

More museuming was next on my list and the first stop had to be Peggy Guggenheim's home on the grand canal. She was a strong presence in Venice, influencing modern art and encouraging artists to come to the floating city. Her home is now a museum, filled with her collection of art and some of furniture and personal items. She is buried there along with the pets she had while living in the house. It's easy to imagine the life she lived while wandering the rooms of her home. I had lunch after a long visit, lingering in Peggy's garden and thinking about making art.

Next stop was a current artist's exhibit. Damien Hirst's 'Treasures from the Wreck of the Unbelievable' was just that - unbelievable. Hirst filled two entire museums with artifacts from a shipwreck, from huge statues to tiny relics like earrings. There were hundreds of items, all jaw dropping and surreal and beautiful and strange. Of course, there never was a ship called the Unbelievable and all of the relics were created by Hirst, but still, he had photos of them being excavated from the ocean floor and restorations made alongside the 'originals'. If one had no idea that this was a current artist, it's possible to believe that the exhibit was a real catalog of recovered items. Well almost. He gives little signs that it's not real along the way, and the pieces are too similar and beautiful to have been in the ocean for 2000 years, and at the end, one of the relics is a replica of Walt Disney and Mickey Mouse, in case you hadn't caught on earlier. It was some of the best art I've seen in a long time. Hirst wins the art game.

I took my vaporetto home (by the way, I've now seen a 2 line and heard rumors of a 3 line existing... there's more complexity to the lines than I previously thought, of course) and spent a lovely 35 minutes contemplating the merits of just staying on the boat for a couple of hours instead of going back to the flat, In the end I got off, mainly because it was rush hour and no time for a pleasure cruise.

Alex and I laid low in the evening, not even going out for dinner. I nursed the cough that mostly took a day off yesterday but is back today, though not as bossy. Alex read more books. I think he's has about 10 going at the same time right now. Don't know how he does it.