Make me a channel of your peace!

All Roads Lead to Rome!

Everyone knows we like to travel and have been many places, some near, some far. But personally I had never been to Italy, So the whole plan of our European Adventure was to end up in Italy. All the magical Eastern European midivil cities were preludes the the great and powerful Rome.

We traveled from Medjugore back to Croatia to the wonderful city of Split. You remember the Emperor Diocletian from the early fourth century? Well for his retirement he decided to build a Palace on the Dalmatian coast. No travel trailer for hime. The amazingly beautiful peninsular on the Adriatic was his home away from home. And the layout of his palace is now the old city of Split. SO worth a visit! Alas we missed Dubrovnik, but we have been told that Split was as cool if not cooler.
That evening we got on the Jardrolinja, a ship that was to bring us to Italy.

The night was beautiful, the moon was full, and the ship was jammed packed. Apparently everyone in Croatia wanted to go to Italy that night.Very fortunately, we had gotten a cabin so we didn't have to hang out with the masses who where setting up camp on every square inch on the public areas. Restaurants, hallways, stair landings, the dance floor,  the outside deck, - all were strewn with blankets, sleeping bags, blowup mattresses and whatever else the crafty travelers could come up with to make themselves comfy.
While we were thankful for the cabin, we did remark the we could picture Amelia and Erik enjoying the floating pajama party. But we are at the age that pizza, beer, a deck of cards and a DOOR was all we wanted!

We are used to taking ferries in Scandinavia, always marveling at the efficiency of getting hundreds of vehicles on and off these ships in a short time and in an orderly manner. Ahem, how do I politely say our first AM in Italy did not measure up to the Swedish experience? First we stood forever waiting to get down to the car deck. When we finally got to our deck, it was a bit chaotic. The cars were forced to turn around in the cramped space because...wait, I really don't even know why! Did the ship come in the wrong way? Were the doors broken? Whatever the reason, Svend very smartly insisted I go ashore with the walking passengers and wait outside while he dealt with getting the car out.  So my first view of Italy was sitting on a cement piling  on a dock in Ancona, waiting for out cute little Nissan Juke to appear from the Jardolinja. Which it finally di.

But, so what, here we are in Italy! Everything is written in Italian! There are signs that say Roma- and I knew that meant Rome!

And yet there is still one tale to tell about the amazing hilltop town of Assissi. While driving along the pleasant motorway that Saturday morning, we spied a sign that said Assisi 30 km. We had to make a detour to see the great cathedral of Saint Francis. To tell the truth Svend is not really aware of the top 10 saint list, but we Catholic know and love Saint Francis of Assisi!

I can assure anyone who has not been to Assissi, it is magnificent. After a longish 30 km up some beautiful backroads, it was a thrill to spy the walled town of Assisi. As per our usual "seat of your pants" style, we just drove as close as possible and found a parking area. It was right outside one of the gates and a steep, but not long walk to the famous church. I couldn't say which of the various levels of the Cathedral are more beautiful or interesting. Svend would probably choose the one of the three he actually visited and then beat it to the coffee shop across from the main entrance.

We agreed I would meet him there after I wandered around a bit longer and worse case scenario, meet back at the car. Can you catch the foretelling here of a disaster waiting to happen?


After a good wonder around the various floors of the cathedral and a sneaky picture of one of the statues (I swear I did not see one of the ten thousand notices about not taking pictures until after the fact) it was time to leave and find the Viking driver of my chariot (aka Villy's Nissan Juke.) Don't ask me how I did it, but somehow I walked out a different entrance and could nor find the coffee shop that was directly across from where we went in. But my thought was, OK it's a walled city - how lost can I get. The answer turns out to be INCREDIBLY LOST!. Did I mention it was noon, August, Italy and hot!!!
 It was at least an hour or more of trying to figure out where the car was parked. Was I supposed to have noted the name of the car park? Should I be held accountable that there are several places to park around this ancient walled city? Finally I found my way to the main square and the tourist info office where a blessed millennial conjured up Google maps street view and I recognized the steep hill we walked down from the car park. After another half hour of hot, steep-hill, charming ancient city walking I found the car. Empty of course with no note. I tried to ask the several sleepy people who seemed to work at the coffee shop if they saw a handsome Swede recently, but they didn't understand my questions. So I bought a cold beer and waited. The aforementioned handsome Swede showed up, none too happy I might add. OK fast forward through that few minutes and we were on our way after an accidental turn onto a walking street. Now that's an uncomfortable situation - trying to drive down a very busy touristy walking street in charming Italian walled city, but it was a great story. That is until the ticket came in the mail months later. Apparently Big Italian Brother was watching and set a large bill to Svend's father who didn't think it was such a good story! HA!