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Published: October 8th 2010
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I’ve long held the belief that sometimes you go right by something you’re supposed to see, but then someone comes along to lead you back to it. This happened to me in Lisbon l when I took a picture of a gas station on the curb of the street and didn’t notice the tree behind it. I left and went to other cities, and when I came back to Lisbon, a guest at the pension I was staying at took me for a walk to see an incredible tree with branches that went out so far they needed a metal frame to support them .Yes, the one behind the gas pumps.
Same sort of thing happened today. I have a mild cold and it looked rainy, so I thought I’d stay in and do heavy doses of Echinacea to fend off a really serious cold. However, Rosaria, the maid here at the B&B, offered to walk me through old town BARI to the Cathedral OF San Sabina. I accepted partly, to see how she walked in her high heels, a different pair than the ones she had to throw away, and partly because I couldn’t pass up strolling down the street
with a real Italian woman who actually lives here.
She did fine on the heels, all the while pointing out a things along the way, like how the Petruzzell Theatre got badly burned inside almost 20 years ago for not paying their “security” money to the mafia. She took me into the Basilica di San Nicola, a Russian saint whom she’s especially fond of, showed me where she grew up on the old section of the city, and introduced me to various acquaintances including her brother, a priest who just happened to be at the Cathedral when we got there. He pointed out the rose window high up on the west wall of the cathedral and noted that he was the one to discover that on June 21st when the sun shines on the floor through the rose window, it exactly matches the rose-window shape, inlaid in marble on the floor. I’d quickly visited the cathedral the first day I arrived in Bari, but didn’t look at the window or the floor. Moreover, when I went downstairs into more intimate church area, I passed up touring an archaeological site of an imperial Byzantine Cathedral that was destroyed by Willily am
I of Sicily in 1156. I passed it up because I didn’t want to pay 3 euros for something that didn’t like much anyway. Well, today, in spite of its being closed, in spite of my feeling lousy, I took the tour (and paid the 3 euros) since Rosaria’s brother urged me to—didn’t want to be rude. So glad I got a second chance! I got a private tour through a really well laid out area with glass flooring to look down at Byzantine mosaic floors. They knew the old church was there when they built the new on top. They even left holes in the floor so they could toss dead bodies below to dispose of them. When they decided to excavate, they had to haul away hundreds of carts (if I understood the Italian correctly). Evidently after William “the evil,” a Norman,(probably some ancestor of my husband’s) sacked the town, Bari became a ghost town for a while. Rosaria waited for me to finish the tour and walked me back out of old tow. Picturing her playing in the courtyards, making her first communion, attending the school there, and running up and down the twisting streets really brought
the “old city” to life. As a child, she never guessed tourists would one day walk her neighborhood and marvel at it.
The story window with various plugs is to show you how many different kinds of connections there are. Everyone has a drawer full of these connectors for various appliances. All the electricity is 220, which I knew and prepared for by bringing along a 3 pound transformer in order to keep my camera, computer, and phone charged. I’ll need to use my transformer in reverse when I get back since my new camera recharges with a 220 connection.
The post office is right next to my B&B, so I snapped a couple shots of the postmen loading up their various vehicles to make deliveries. After I took the first shot, they all laughed and thus the happy attitude.
Several people have expressed envy at the fun time I’m having. Well, I have to tell you I only tell you the fun stuff. There’re plenty of times when I wonder what the hell I’m doing. The photo of the train track that ends and another train sitting beside it is a good example. There are three different train companies,
one city wide (I think) that I didn’t use, another that goes to some cities, and yet another that goes to other cities—I haven’t figured it out, I just know which track to go to for the city I want to reach. I should say, I NOW know, because I did a fair amount of wandering around in the passageways below track to find the way to the one in the photo that went to Alberobello. While my sister and her husband were here, a couple months ago, they got on a special train that was a level above the ticket they bought and they had to do quite a song and dance to avoid a major fine. Tomorrow’s trip to Rome will be my second to last train ride, the last being a trip to the airport. Being lost, asking stupid questions, getting looked at like you’re totally pazzo (crazy), trying to figure out where to pay, whether to pay before or after receiving services, trying not to get run over by all sizes of vehicle that seem to ignore the lane lines, feeling out of place due to my height, Nordic skin color, and decidedly non-Italian sense of style, etc. I’m sure if I asked my sister, she’d have a few things to add to this list. I put in another photo of the door curtain that separates me from the family inside talking and having dinner. I have to remind myself, I'll be home before long having dinner with my family too, but for the moment tht I pass the door, I feel a little lonely.So, just so you know, it ain’t all fun, but enough of it is to make it worth doing and recalling mostly the good stuff. I have to say my Italian is serving me well, more in the area of understanding than in speaking. But that’s good for me, too—learning to shut up and listen.
I may get one more entry in this blog in Rome, otherwise expect to see a wrap-up entry when I get to Seattle on the 11th. I leave Rome at 11:30 in the morning and arrive Seattle around 8 at night, but if that sounds quick, remember there’s a 9 hour time change, making it 17 plus hours of travel. The actual mileage from Rome to Seattle is 5,670 as the crow flies, but I’m not taking a crow, I’m using Air Canada and going through Toronto.
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Anita
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I am so happy you were able to get to "old town" Bari. It is such a lively place. And, with a personal guide-even better. Now I have some things to go see if I get to go back. Did you see any women making orichiette? Anita