Livorno (for Pisa)

Our ship was docked at Livorno, which is the port from which one travels to either Florence or Pisa. That morning, for the first time on a cruise I was disturbed by the stateroom attendant. She knocked on my door at 8.30, thinking I was away on a tour. She was apologetic when I answered the door in my bathrobe! I decided it was time to get up anyway, and was ready to leave by 10:00. 

I had another first at breakfast. I saw three of the local customs officials (complete with guns and handcuffs) wandering around the breakfast buffet and getting food. I asked one of the waiters if it is one of the perks of the job, and he said it is a general occurrence. The ship lines do not mind, as it makes sure the ships are cleared for passengers to go ashore. However, in poorer places like India and some of the South American countries, the dining room often fills up with people who work in the port plus their relatives: ‘I’m a cousin of the man who holds open the door’, etc. I’m happy to have some of the obscenely excessive food being used that way! In other places the officials leave with their pockets stuffed full of whisky and cigarettes.

Today was planned to be an adventurous day. When I look back at the various ports I’ve visited, I smile more when I remember the days I have used public transport and done things a little bit differently. For this day I planned to go to Pisa by myself. I’d researched it on the internet, and checked with the Tourist Information Officer who came on our ship with maps and general help. 

Oceania rarely provides a shuttle bus into town, so I had to start with a 10-minute walk to one of the main squares in the shopping street. The instructions were clear and the map was a help. From there I caught the Number 1 bus to the train station. The bus was full before I got on, and about 10 people got on after me! I was a bit irritated with an older man who kept swaying against me and almost leaning on me as we moved. Then after about 5 minutes he offered me a seat and made his grandson get up so I could sit down. It shows how easy it is to misjudge people! The bus ride to the station took about 10 minutes.

At the station I had a 30-minute wait for the train to Florence, stopping at Pisa. I always stay alert in foreign countries, so when I heard a garbled message in Italian I checked and discovered that our train had moved platforms. No problems.

On the train I ended up in conversation with two Italian women. One of them could speak English but the other couldn’t. They were concerned about the tourist travelling by herself and didn’t want me to be ripped off. Although I explained that I was not really worried about eating, the non-English-speaking woman insisted on me following her so she could take me to a cafe where the locals eat. She also said she’d take me by train to the local stop for the Tower rather than the bus. I dutifully followed in her footsteps saying an occasional ‘Si’ or ‘Bella’ and then found she was going to sit with me at the cafe. I really did not want to eat but ended up with a croissant and a coffee while she had a cappuccino. I think they were concerned about me and would have liked me to eat a full meal of spaghetti bolgnese, but I could not face anything in the heat. This kind woman was all ready to pay for me but I insisted on paying. She’d taken me to the right place; it cost less than one coffee anywhere else. She walked me to a shop to buy a ticket for the bus back, then to the entrance to the Duomo complex and then showed me where the bus would go from – all this without a word of English. The kindness of strangers! I wish I’d taken her photo.

I had seen photos of the Leaning Tower but had always noticed the lean rather than the beauty of the Tower itself. I loved the white marble facing and the many arches. It was difficult to get a good photo as digital cameras have a tendency to cause things to lean anyway, and so I was afraid they would actually straighten the Tower. The lean shows up best when looked at next to other buildings.

 I stood in the usual queue to visit the toilets and then bought a ticket for the cathedral itself. I was not interested in walking up the Tower. It was a hot day and I needed to conserve energy.

I walked through the town, wandering up side streets at random, in confidence that I would find my way back because of the Tower.

 I was amused by the translation of this sign on a garage door.

Being in Italy meant that I had to buy an ice cream. Another first: I ended up throwing it away! I had bought a lemon gelati that was both too sickly sweet and too revoltingly sour (artificial lemon flavour).

Of course, the area was full of tourist traps.

The return journey was easy: bus to the train station, train to Pisa, bus to the square and then walk to the ship. I chatted with interesting people all the way back.

Being the last day of the cruise meant that I arrived in my stateroom to find my suitcase on my bed, all ready for me to pack after my last Afternoon Tea. The end of a holiday is always a sad time.

Because my birthday is the day we leave the ship, I celebrated it at dinner on the last evening. The waiters came and sang ‘Happy Birthday’ and brought me a lovely cake. Such fun. Laurence (on the right) was my waiter each night. She was lovely! It was a pleasure to go to dinner to see her smiling face.

Manny, the Head Waiter, always made sure that my coffee was weak! He always greeted me with a big smile. He arranged the birthday cake for me.