Closing up another business trip to Vicenza, Italy seems to demand a story, something that always seems to be the case when I go there, no matter the transportation mode. I opted for the train this time and had an uneventful trip for the most part albeit with five different trains each way (10 hours down, 9 back). Both coming and going, all the trains were new, fast and nice with one exception; unfortunately the Italian trains between Rosenheim and Verona, through Austria and the Alps, was of much older stock with unwashed windows obscuring the magnificent view. From Verona to Vicenza the conductor informed me I had to pay an additional €9 in what I annoyingly considered highway robbery. I handed her a €10 note, received €11 in change and for the first time in my life did not correct her error; pocketing a €1 annoyance fee. The Italian train system always manages to do something to make a great trip somewhat less so; and then make up for it.
From the Vicenza station I took a bus, stayed at the Inn on post and on the recommendation of the front desk walked to a local restaurant notable for its tiny interior and enormous cook (400 lbs if an ounce). I doubt 20 could be seated but the food was good, plentiful enough for the cook, and more than reasonably priced (€13 including wine and water). I’ll save you the tale of changing my tickets to a later train due to an unplanned meeting this morning … suffice it to say I’ve no clue how I’ll file my travel voucher. I vowed to plan my next trip better and spend more time exploring the old city of Vicenza itself; it shows promise of a great old city to wander aimlessly through with a camera.
This morning was the absolute highlight; I’d been invited to join a group for a “trail” run with the promise of a fantastic view. A trail in my part of Germany is through a tended forest … wide trails, only very moderate hills, and good footing (read no slick rocks or steep bare ground). So when the four of us drove toward a large mountain bluff and parked in a picturesque and ancient town at the base of enormous cliffs I had the sinking feeling that my 47 year old tail had gotten itself into something it shouldn’t have. A Navy Commander led the way commenting it was fortunate it hadn’t rained or this trail would be dangerous (me wondering what the Navy was doing charging up steep hills). It was over a mile up the steepest climb I’ve ever actually “run” (between 500 and 600 vertical feet according to Google Earth). Yeah, when the undergrowth got too thick or the rocks too slick, we slowed to a fast walk; but otherwise we did, indeed, run. As we paused at a level meadow to take on the first of many great views I was convinced my calves would explode and heard myself saying we needed to go on just to loosen them up. Let me assure you, the view from this large hill overlooking ancient towns, churches, country villas, 400 ft cliffs with houses built into them half way up and the valley below was worth every second of the fight up … and the run down was possibly the most satisfying I’ve ever had. Unfortunately I had neither camera nor time to return.
The trip home has been uneventful, if much later than originally planned; I’ve finished some reports and read the better part of Donna Leon's latest novel. A late lunch consisted of a three course meal in the restaurant car riding through the scenic Alps with a small bottle of wine … pleasure pure. Dinner in the Munich station was a quick but good Chinese dish. At the moment, I’m sitting in a new InterCityExpress (bullet train) from Munich en route Nürnberg listening to a mix of blues and jazz from this computer; we're approaching 200mph riding smooth as silk while passing a few Porsche on the adjacent autobahn. Life is good, even if it has been a terribly long day. I wonder how my legs will feel tomorrow.
p.s. legs were fine the next day.
