Post by Confusion on Sept 21, 2005 7:24:59 GMT -8
PISA, ITALY
I sat by the window of a loud and crowded cafe, looking out onto the streets of Pisa and sipping thick Italian hot chocolate. Directly ahead stood the leaning tower. Prominent and ornate, surrounded by sunburnt tourists, hopping to and fro from the many gift stalls. The stalls were neatly aligned on the shiny cobbled streets. Never-ending rows of identical stalls, all selling anything possible to theme around the tower.
I strolled aimlessly across the well-trimmed grass that framed the tower, feeling tranquil and relaxed, despite the bedlam that appeared to thunder through Pisa on a daily basis.
My stomach took a sharp jolt as I apprehensively glanced at the tower. Fifty-six metres above me I could just about see those who had climbed to the very highest point of the tower. Some were waving ecstatically, daringly leaning over the edge, whilst others queasily backed away, returning to the ground with hast.
As the time neared midday the sun’s bright and powerful rays appeared to reflect in the faces of all around. Many sleepily stretched out on the green. Shining, cloudless faces gazed at each other, posing for photos and drifting into dreams.
Soon it was lunchtime. Resting tourists awoke to the smell of warm, fresh, traditional Italian pizza coming from the long line of restaurants now opening. Hunger suddenly taking over me, I stood up and stretched in the afternoon breeze, then headed for the nearest restaurant.
I found myself at a large yet quiet pizzeria. As I walked through the grand wooden carved doors my mouth watered with the overpowering smell of pizza. The staff were gracious and welcoming, showing me to a small table by the window. As the waiter came to take my order it became apparent he was fluent in English, making me blush at my incredibly basic Italian I had learnt from a guidebook on the plane journey to Pisa. The restaurant was very laid back and I waited almost an hour for my pizza to arrive; however it was well worth the wait. My margarita pizza filled the dinner plate it was presented on. The thin crust looked magnificent, as did the toppings. It tasted divine. In less than fifteen minutes I had cleared the plate.
As I left the restaurant I noticed the crowds dispersing from the crowded streets, filing into the many restaurants. The sun was no longer high in the sky, instead was beginning to set, glowing a magnificent colour of startling orange.
I began the walk back to the hotel I was staying at, hotel Granduca. It was a long walk, of about 5 miles, however the views I passed were enchanting. Pisa seemed to be a sea of museums and monuments, festivals and fairs. Locals and tourists glistened as the sunset.
As I entered my hotel room, exhausted from the walk, I sat by the large window and looked out onto the streets below where the nightlife was coming out, like a tortoise from its shell. I could hear music amongst loud chattering. I saw people dancing joyfully, excitement and festivity taking hold of all around. In the distance I could still see the leaning tower of Pisa, by far the largest and grandest object for miles around.
I sat by the window of a loud and crowded cafe, looking out onto the streets of Pisa and sipping thick Italian hot chocolate. Directly ahead stood the leaning tower. Prominent and ornate, surrounded by sunburnt tourists, hopping to and fro from the many gift stalls. The stalls were neatly aligned on the shiny cobbled streets. Never-ending rows of identical stalls, all selling anything possible to theme around the tower.
I strolled aimlessly across the well-trimmed grass that framed the tower, feeling tranquil and relaxed, despite the bedlam that appeared to thunder through Pisa on a daily basis.
My stomach took a sharp jolt as I apprehensively glanced at the tower. Fifty-six metres above me I could just about see those who had climbed to the very highest point of the tower. Some were waving ecstatically, daringly leaning over the edge, whilst others queasily backed away, returning to the ground with hast.
As the time neared midday the sun’s bright and powerful rays appeared to reflect in the faces of all around. Many sleepily stretched out on the green. Shining, cloudless faces gazed at each other, posing for photos and drifting into dreams.
Soon it was lunchtime. Resting tourists awoke to the smell of warm, fresh, traditional Italian pizza coming from the long line of restaurants now opening. Hunger suddenly taking over me, I stood up and stretched in the afternoon breeze, then headed for the nearest restaurant.
I found myself at a large yet quiet pizzeria. As I walked through the grand wooden carved doors my mouth watered with the overpowering smell of pizza. The staff were gracious and welcoming, showing me to a small table by the window. As the waiter came to take my order it became apparent he was fluent in English, making me blush at my incredibly basic Italian I had learnt from a guidebook on the plane journey to Pisa. The restaurant was very laid back and I waited almost an hour for my pizza to arrive; however it was well worth the wait. My margarita pizza filled the dinner plate it was presented on. The thin crust looked magnificent, as did the toppings. It tasted divine. In less than fifteen minutes I had cleared the plate.
As I left the restaurant I noticed the crowds dispersing from the crowded streets, filing into the many restaurants. The sun was no longer high in the sky, instead was beginning to set, glowing a magnificent colour of startling orange.
I began the walk back to the hotel I was staying at, hotel Granduca. It was a long walk, of about 5 miles, however the views I passed were enchanting. Pisa seemed to be a sea of museums and monuments, festivals and fairs. Locals and tourists glistened as the sunset.
As I entered my hotel room, exhausted from the walk, I sat by the large window and looked out onto the streets below where the nightlife was coming out, like a tortoise from its shell. I could hear music amongst loud chattering. I saw people dancing joyfully, excitement and festivity taking hold of all around. In the distance I could still see the leaning tower of Pisa, by far the largest and grandest object for miles around.