What Have You Done Today to Make You Feel Proud?

Tuesday 14th Aug

I discovered that a university town, Padova, about an hour from where I live held a month long festival celebrating all things LGBT. Since I had been a very bad member of the LGBT community and not been to one pride celebration this year, it was hard to refuse the chance to visit one when the opportunity knocked on my door, or tent.

So on a bright and sunny Tuesday afternoon Natalie and I boarded a bus bound for Padova.  The journey took much longer than it should. Traffic was awful. Word had clearly spread that we were going to Padova and the paparazzi were out in full force. Eventually we arrived in Padova half an hour late and in need of a place to sleep. We eventually found a hotel 5 minutes walk from the entrance to the Pride festival, and they even gave us a discounted price as we were two people in a room for 3 people. The room was gorgeous, we had a separate bedroom, lounge and the bathroom was bigger than my tent. After an aperitif on the balcony, we decided it was time to go and be proud.

Look at how shiney the floor is

Entering ‘Padova Pride Village’ it was just like other pride events I’d been to in England, except it was all in another language, strange that eh? One thing we noticed about it here which was different to how we do things in the UK was that lots of people brought their pets. Mainly dogs. Now I’m very fond of dogs and I think it’s great that the LGBT world is finally arranging events that allow the canine community to celebrate their homosexuality also. I think in England we are far too speciesest when it comes to pride celebrations.  As it was Tuesday night entrance was free, which made us even more impressed. We looked at the vintage stalls and books stalls. I even dressed up as some kind of strange military personnel; I don’t think it suited me.

The festival was held in a strange car park which felt as though it could have been used as a sound stage. On either side of the car park were doors into warehouses which were no longer being used. We surmised that on a weekend these warehouses’ probably acted as clubs. We were quite content with our outside area, the weather was still fine and two stages were plenty for us. We watched a band who introduced me to one of my new favourite songs ‘Melissa Etheridge, Like the Way I Do,’ amongst other songs. It sounded so good sang by the Italian lady with an accent we almost believed it was an original song she had penned herself. After the set was up we approached the band’s two guitar players to find out how long they had been together etc etc etc, turns out that they were not even a band and that usually our leading lady was a solo artist, I just wish I had her name to share as she was very good.

Once we had suitably embarrassed ourselves using our pidgin Italian it was time to watch the main event of the night, a regional heat for Mr Gay Italia. I’d like to say that the winner held good values, believed in world peace (‘and tougher sentences for parole violators’) but all was spoken in Italian, so I have no idea. I’m sure the right man won in the end and he was presented with a sash, proudly proclaiming he was now and will be (for the next 12 months) Mr Gay Padova. A very useful title in many circles I’m sure. What else was there to do now but dance? So taking a lesson from the Mavericks, we did just what they always wanted to do and we danced the night away! 

O’Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Der in Verona!

2nd - 3rd August

After a long and hard day at work (ok maybe not) how is the best way to relax? Glass of wine? Kicking back with a crossword? No, a sneaky boat ride (or 2) and a nice little train journey to Verona and a night in a hotel with running water (ish) and indoor electricity (just) and a beautiful view!

Ok so explaining the situation al little more, as my friend Ben has very graciously decided to spend a week of her holidays with me I figured that we have to squeeze in as much sightseeing as possible. I’m not sure if she would have preferred the beach and pool all day but I guess it's a little late for that niw (Sorry Ben). As I had finished work I met up with her and we tried to decide on what to do. The following day being a day off opened up a whole world of possibilities, and despite the internet connections best efforts to prevent us from going anywhere we had soon decided to visit the fair city of Verona and spend the night there before calling into Juliet’s for a coffee and a catch up.

I had been given an assignment by Liat during this visit. On my last visit to Verona I was told that my touching of Juliet’s breast did not count because my hand was only at the bottom, I was told I HAD to get a full on grab, it’s not my fault, I don’t know what you’re supposed to do with them. So with a hotel reservation made via telephone (a much more reliable communication device than the internet) we were bus bound. Since Ben had yet to visit Venice, and I, as like most men, am a great multi tasker, decided that it would be a great idea to get the boat to Venice and jump on the train from Venice’s main station as opposed to going to Mestre and catching the train from there.

What's wrong with that?

This idea was great, even if I do say so myself! We saw all of the main sights, Rialto, Academia, St Marks Square etc etc. We got some good pictures too. I even met my favourite ever ticket inspector, yes I know ticket inspector. Although I think public transport over here is extremely over priced if the transport company employ more people like our inspector then I would consider it money well spent! The inspector did not bother to check tickets, after all why should he, it’s not like it’s his job or anything. But better than that, he actually ‘told off’ the parents of children who had allowed their children to climb on the seats. After all they are designed to be sat on, and not designed as an alternative to a trampoline.

OK the journey was pretty uneventful, we bought our tickets and soon the sun set and we were speeding away from Venice and up into the hills. The man who own the hostel which we were staying in had kindly offered to pick us up from the railway station in Verona. Never one to risk missing a lift, I omitted to mention the wheelchair just in case he withdrew his kind offer. Watching him trying to squeeze two people, 2 overnight bags and a full sized wheel chair into a car the size of a Ford Ka I couldn’t help but feel bad for not pre warning this kind fellow.

Once we got to the room he did act a little bizarrely. He was very kind in giving us information on his city and he provided us with a map which he’d photocopied his business card onto, quite ingenious I thought, and quite apt for my current dislike of things computer. After his whole spiel about the area and information on breakfast and of course payment for the room, he decided to sit down on the floor. I forget his exact words, but to be honest I’ve got a niggling feeling he was talking very little about anything important. Then as quickly as he had sat himself down by my side of the bed, he took himself off and went back on with his business.

It was at this point that I forgave modern technology and attempted to charge my laptop. I couldn’t get the adapter in the socket so Ben tried forcing it in. You see someone very foolishly painted over the plug socket and managed to make the holes tiny. A bit of brute force by Ben and the plus was in, but what we didn’t expect to see was the electricity for the entire hostel goes off too. The man came running back and confidently showed me the fuse box in case this happened again, luckily I don’t think that he suspected Ben, so I’ve now discovered that having a wheelchair is a great way to hide anything bad you’ve done, I must put one on my Christmas list.

OK so showered and teeth brushed in the morning we had a nice breakfast at a local cafe paid for by the hotel owner, nice man that he is, upon our return to the hostel I explored a little and found this interesting guide.

Armed with a map and no real plan of where we wanted to go we set off to explore Verona. As last time was so rushed it was nice to be able to do this trip at a relaxed pace.  After crossing the ponte (bridge for those non Italian speakers) we discovered an opening in the ground. The hole was fenced off but below you could see what looked like an old amphitheatre; I was quite impressed it had survived being built over and also survived excavation. 

Later into our walk we found the main attraction in Verona, at least for us, the tunnel into Juliet’s walled garden. This time I was able to spend loads of time reading everyone’s messages. It’s amazing how high the messages go, people must come armed with step ladders and a love with kind of pre planning and fore site definitely deserves to last. 

After probably too long in the tunnel I had decided that it was time to complete my assignment from Liat. I had to go for a full on grab. To have your picture taken there is so difficult, there were far for tourist here this time and they were vicious. It’s amazing how everyone forgets any sense of manners when they’re in a scrum trying to get a picture of a ladies naked breast. I seriously think that the British love of queuing should be taught in other countries that travel because to have your picture taken at this statue was terrible. Eventually I managed to get Juliet to myself and, sadly, I wasn’t a gentleman.

Is That Better?

Surrounded by trinket shops it was inevitable that some souvenirs had to be bought. Ben wanted to visit an art gallery whilst we were in Italy so our eyes were peeled for anything that looked like it may be a gallery. What should we find next, but an art gallery? Squeezing into the narrow doorway (I don’t think that the architects’ had predicted the usage of wheelchairs when the buildings had been designed) and the amazing small corridor that led to the newly added lift we soon found ourselves on the 3^rd floor. A very apologetic Italian lady advised us that the exhibition was closed and that we were welcome to return when the exhibition opened in a few weeks, fine for me but a little pointless for Ben so we turned around and decided to play sophisticated in Verona and order ourselves a coffee, it also gave us a chance to try on some of Ben’s souvenir, and of course write the obligatory postcard. 

Coffee and hot chocolate up we continued with our journey heading roughly in the direction of the train station, we eventually admitted defeat and jumped on a bus, far quicker that way anyway.

The Best of Italy! (Sort of)

31^st July – 1^st Aug

Ok so having a very special visitor over from England I decided it was my responsibility; in fact my duty to show her the best that Italy has to offer. After a long and deep thought process I realised the place I had enjoyed the most thus far on this trip was Ljubljana in Slovenia. Not having enough time to visit the capital again we decided that a trip to the seaside town on Koper would be the destination of choice in Slovenia, how we would soon regret choosing it.

This time I didn’t have the luxury of a car driving friend with days off so we were reduced to take the trip via public transport, the peasant wagon. Our routing was this:

Marco Polo Airport --> bus to San Dona di Piave --> Train to Trieste --> and then final bus to Koper!

Easy peasey! It shouldn’t take us too long; or so we thought! We being myself(obviously), Ben and Liat.

Having not put much thought into the timings of any of these connections we didn’t really feel any need to rush, which to be fair was probably a good thing. Ben’s flight arrived on time and off we trotted to wait for the bus at the bus stop. The bus was due at 1205 and 1235. It was 1155. The bus arrived at about quarter past so who knows if it was late or if it was early. I was just happy it had turned up! The very nice lady helped me put Ben’s wheel chair in the luggage compartment and the girls got on and chose seats. 40 minutes later we were sat in the only Italian bar open during siesta eating a strange Italian roll thingamajig that tasted really good. It was also Ben’s first sampling of Italian chocolate syrup, sorry I mean ‘hot chocolate.’

Thinking that the bus stop we got off at would be close to the Train station was our first mistake. Turns out it was a good twenty minute walk away, which doesn’t sound like a lot but with the Italian heat, a suitcase, 2 rucksacks and a wheel chair on uneven surfaces, it’s not the most pleasant of walks. That’s when I realised lapsus numero duo (mistake number two), I had forgotten my hat! Too far into the trip to go back I decided, I don’t need it, I’ll manage so I will.

My Makeshift Hat

After a bit of a walk, and the wind being in the right direction we found ourselves somehow at a cute little railway station, not dissimilar to Rochdale, except this one was sunny and didn’t have the same urine smell in the subway that Rochdale railway station has. We bought us tickets and the ticket agent did his bit for the environment by putting all 3 passengers onto the same ticket, I thought that was very conscientious of him, it’s these little things that if we all did them could, combined, make a huge difference to the world.

Blah blah blah train came we got on it, we arrived in Trieste, we got off the train again, but for wandering around eventually found us bus stop, turned out the next bus wasn’t for hours, 7pm, so we went in search of a place to sit down, because well, we hadn’t sat for long enough already today.

Surprisingly, Trieste was nice! I was expecting to have some dirty little Italian boarder town but the building were pretty and it had canals (why this impresses me considering how close I am to Venice I still don’t fully understand). In fact I think I actually LIKE Trieste, if it hadn’t been for the reservation I had foolishly made the night before for a Motel in Koper then I think we would have stayed here. Our quick (sorry couldn’t resist) pit stop allowed us to find one of the best things out about Trieste, the Spar there (or DeSpar as it is known locally) actually has tables and chairs outside so you can sit out and watch the world go by. It’s a very good idea; I can see Tesco’s doing it soon.

Unfortunately we had to leave and go for us bus across the border into Slovenia. The bus took about 40 minutes and the crossing was barely noticeable, except for the 3 or 4 casinos that straddled the frontier. The Australian man sat behind Liat described it perfectly when the bus stopped at its final destination ‘Is this Koper? I’m not getting off here!’ Unfortunately for him, and us, the bus wasn’t going anywhere else so we jumped into a taxi and drove to our Motel for the night.

This was when we thought things were looking up, the room was nice, it was big, it was very clean, we even had a balcony, and we even had a KITCHEN! We found a supermarket next door and bought ourselves a nice cock-taa and some wine etc and decided to pre-drink before hitting the nightlife that Slovenian port town Koper was bound to have in abundance. All those cargo ships must have crew who need, have earned and deserve a night out!

'Cock?'

'-Taa!'

When we got back to the room with us wine, we found, no crockery, no cutlery, no pans, no glasses, no mugs, no kettle, no colander, no oven proof dish, no salad bowl, basically nothing, we didn’t even have anything to drink our very expensive Slovenian wine from. I’m just glad we stuck with a screw top because I’d hate to have to ruin a good Slovenian white by corking the bugger.

A Vintage Slovenian White

Undeterred a few plastic glasses had found their way to Slovenia in our bags with us and it seemed a terrible shame for them to go to waste. All showered and changed we decided to sample one of the restaurants underneath our Motel. It turned out our Motel was used mainly as student accommodation but was hired out during the summer months, probably explains why we have a kitchen and no utensils. This however meant that we had bars around where we were staying. How good was that? Well it might have been, had the bars had people in them, but they didn’t; I guess the students might have something to do with them being full. Full of enthusiasm still we settled on a charming little place named ‘City Burger ‘because, well , we had little else choice for food. Ben decided on pizza, I chose a chicken burger and Liat the vegetarian that she is, ordered a ‘Veggie Burger.’ Now Italy is not very big on vegetarian processed foods, sure you can get ‘pizza margarita’ or ‘spaghetti aglio, olio, e peperoncino’ but in the 4 and a half months since I’ve been in Italy I’ve not seen so much as a Linda McCartney Sausage so you can imagine how excited Liat was to have an actual ‘Veggie Burger.’ She was literally sat on the edge of her seat anticipating how good it was going to taste. The food came and I was happily tucking into my chicken burger when Liat began laughing hysterically. Turns out in Slovenia a ‘Veggie Burger’ isn’t actually a burger. In Slovenia a ‘Veggie Burger’ consists of a few lettuce leaves, 2 slices of gherkin, 2 slices of aubergine, 2 slices of tomato, and a cheese slice, you know those really cheap plastic type tasting cheese slices. It was basically my Chicken Burger but with the chicken breast removed. How glad I was that I didn’t choose.

Wow Cock-taa is cheap in Slovenia

As you can probably sense, this became one of the highlights of Koper. It also felt quite fitting and seemed to add itself nicely to the rest of the ‘quirks’ which we had encountered on this thus so far short trip. Being suitably reenergised from a pizza, chicken burger and effectively a vegetable sandwich we decided to hit the bar which the receptionist had kindly recommended. Jumping into a taxi ‘Bella Vita Bar’ had no idea was going to hit it. Or rather we didn’t know what we were letting ourselves in for. Turns out Bella Vita Bar is in the middle of an Industrial estate, and is the only bar in the town that actually has people at it. We were clearly the only non Koperians in the bar and stuck out like a sore thumb. The bar was quite busy but had a strange atmosphere. Maybe it was the half naked girl the bar paid to dance who was wearing bunny ears which made us feel a little uncomfortable, or maybe it was the fact that she appeared to be dancing to a different song than the rest of us but we couldn’t enjoy the place.

I think we lasted 30 minutes and decided that Bella Vita bar was far too decadent for our humble tastes and decided that our ‘expensive’ Slovenian white wine and plastic glasses seemed like a much better option. Ordering a taxi the operator proudly announced that a Lexus would be there soon, and you know what, it was. Things for the first time this trip seemed to be going well. The driver even appeared to speak English, good enough for us to learn some local phrases we thought. Eager to learn something more than ‘Hvala’ and ‘Prosim’ here is the conversation between us and the driver:

Us – Oh you speak English?

Driver – Yes, of course, I speak English

Us – Oh good, maybe you could teach us a few words in Slovenian. What is the Slovenian word for ‘cheers’?

Driver – Yes I speak English. Motel Port (our hotel)

The driver did not say another word to us for the rest of our journey. Our luck must have run out.

Ok I had originally planned on writing the rest of our adventures in Koper as a separate entry but let’s be honest, there isn’t a huge amount to talk about when one is describing Koper. It’s basically an industrial town with a couple of communistesque buildings, a few pretty buildings, and nice round about oh and some place for boats to stop and drop off stuff.

Me and my Bicycle

Classy Place

Bazzing Sign

Breakfast had been provided by our hotel, and if truth be told it was one of the things which swayed me into booking the Motel Port Koper. When I read breakfast was provided I was not quite sure how it would work. Actually that’s a lie, I presumed it would be like any other hotel where you went to a dining room and ate off of a buffet, breads, fruit cheeses and meats. If I was expecting full English I knew I wouldn’t be getting one on this side of the Channel. What I didn’t expect is what was to follow. Choosing to spend some of the morning on the balcony before breakfast I had noticed that the families on either side of me seemed to be eating the same brand of yoghurt and drinking out of plastic cups. I foolishly thought they must both enjoy the same brand of yoghurt (or more likely it was cheapest and they were both tight, after all they’d both stayed in the cheapest hostel I could find in Koper) and I guessed that the plastic cups had been provided by the hostel in their rooms and the cleaners had merely forgot to give us ours. Knowing how much I forget to do when cleaning I didn’t think it a farfetched idea, after all what else could it be? Could the Motel Port Koper actually expect people to collect their breakfast from a small room and then expect them take their paper plate and plastic cup of coffee back to their rooms? The answer is yes they could. They did however provide us with big green bowls to carry our breakfasts in if you wanted a big one, or like us you wanted to make sandwiches for lunch. All in all it wasn’t a bad breakfast, just a very very very strange way to do things, but I guess this is what you have to expect when you go to these strange and exotic destinations.

Liat's improvised knife

We wandered around and found a couple of monuments, we had no idea what they were for so we made up stories ourselves. This monument is in support of all the people who built Koper’s world famous round about. It was such a good round about that they even took a picture of it and made it into a postcard (it’s the postcard i chose to send to my Grandad). The roundabout is as special as it now gives locals a way out of Koper and into the rest of the country which I know is filled with lots of wondrous delights. 

Round About Monument

This monument is to commemorate the founder of Koper. Legend has it that when he built the town, people were forced to move here and threatened with giant palm leaves if they tried to leave. One night the village folk organised a coup, killed the founder of the town and built a fountain/bridge type thing over his body so that he couldn’t come back to life and build another town. 

The Dead Bloke's Monument

I feel bad now. I’d hate to give people the impression that I didn’t like Koper because I had a very good time there. It’s just that Slovenia has much better places to visit and if you actually read this and decided you wanted to Visit Koper let me know and I can give you the details of our hotel, it was very conveniently located within walking distance of the train and bus stations and next door to a huge supermarket. Although if you do think that you still want to visit Slovenia, but fancy missing of Koper then I may just have to come and join you for a drink.