PISA & CINQUE TERRA (#6): From Siena we drove to Vernazza, one of the five villages on the northwest coast of Italy that comprise the area known as Cinque Terra. On the way we stopped in Pisa.
When we arrived in Pisa, the only place we could find to park had parking meters and we only had enough change for 30 minutes. Not knowing if they used a wheel boot in Italy, we decided not to risk a parking violation and ran to the square with the Cathedral and the leaning Tower. That gave us 20 minutes to quickly look around and take the obligatory photo of me trying to straighten the leaning Tower of Pisa.
On the bright side, the quick stop would give us more time in Cinque Terre, and it turned out we would need it. The road to Vernazza was long, narrow and full of twists and turns as it dropped nearly 2,000 feet from the hills to the coast. The road also ended in a parking area one kilometer from the town.Our car had a manual transmission, and I had not driven a stick shift since I sold my 1968 VW. I used the brakes too much, instead of downshifting to slow the car. When we got to Vernazza, I thought the car was on fire. Cathy said I had just smoked the brakes. She told me to put the car in neutral and we rocked the car back and forth a little to keep the brakes from locking up.
We walked to town, which looked like a postcard, and checked into our room. It had a great view of the harbor, if you stood on the bed. We went exploring until dusk. For dinner we bought a bottle of wine and delicious sandwiches on fresh baked Italian rolls and took them out on to the rocks at the opening of the harbor to eat and watch the sun set. Great night, worth the scary ride into town.
In the morning Cathy said, “You’re a Florida boy. I’m used to the mountains of Colorado. I’m driving out. Just don’t say anything or point over the side because I’m afraid of heights!”
We drove to Milan, turned in the rental car and checked into an airport hotel to be ready for our flight home in the morning. When we were ready for bed, Cathy got an extra pillow out of the closet and found a small stack of currency inside the pillow case. She was excited by the find, but I recognized the bills as out of date currency from Belarus. I told her that was how I learned not to change money on the street.
My first trip as a Continental employee was to Prague, a magnifier city that had largely escaped destruction during WWII. It was founded in the 9th century, and an area known as the New Town was built in the mid 1300’s.
I got by on dollars and credit cards until I took a day trip to Kunta Hora, a World Heritage City (like San Miguel de Allende). There I need local currency and went to a bank to change dollars. The exchange rate didn’t seem as good as I had seen in Prague. As I walking to another bank to check, a man said, “I can give you a 10% better rate than that bank. I need American dollars. How much do you want to exchange.” I exchange $20 and went to lunch. When I went to pay my bill, the owner just laughed and said, “Never change money on the street. This is worthless old currency from Belarus!” If something seems too good to be true, watch out!
We kept Cathy’s treasure find as a souvenir, and I couldn’t help but think, “This all seems too good to be true!”
