2006-10-26 - 4:36 p.m.
Let's try this again, shall we? Last night I typed out a nice long post, all about our horrible hostel in Venice, and our time in Turin. Turns out that they have disabled the ctrl. buttons on the keyboards at the Horrible Hostel, so when I highlighted the whole piece, and hit ctrl-c, to copy it before posting, like I always do, it just replaced all my lovely text with a small c. I was not happy.
So yes, you may have caught an undertone- our hostel is not very good. In fact, we are agreed that this is the worst hostel that we've ever stayed in. There is a curfew for heaven's sake. A midnight curfew. I haven't had a curfew in years. Actually, I can remember once through all the turbulent teenage years that I had a curfew, and that was one night when Mom was out of town, and Dad decided to give a curfew for the night. I think I begged off, since I was going out with some youth group. Even that hardly counts, since Dad always got a little paranoid when Mom went out of town. And midnight? come on! I'm 23 years old. If I go out and come back late, which happens rarely enough anyway, I know enough to come in quietly, and go to bed. It's pretty easy for most adults. If I go to bed early, I don't get upset when I hear people coming in late, unless they are blowing whistles like the Scots in Berlin.
Added to the ridiculous curfew, there is a lock out. This is where they close the hostel for a couple hours, necessiating everyone to leave so they can clean. We've had a couple of these, and they are more annoying than anything. All the cleaning ever consists of is sweeping the floors in the dorm, and some hostels just do that whether you are sleeping or not. After a certain point in the morning, I don't mind this either. I do object to being thrown out of my place of abode though. It feels like they are trying to be a mother "now you kids go outside and play! You didn't come to Venice to sleep!" In fact, what I came to Venice to do is my business, and it is my business whether I do it or not. If I miss the whole city because I was asleep, that's too bad, but none of their concern.
Added to this, there are no toilet seats, no shower doors, the internet is obscenely expensive (second only to Paris) the breakfast is laughable horrible (one plasticy bun and some jam, with a cup of coffee or tea) and our room shares a wall with the bathroom. A wall that doesn't reach the ceiling. I went to sleep last night to bathroom noises, and I woke up to hear some guy spitting noisily into a sink. All this for only twice the price of our hostel in Prague. I mean, I can handle bad, but this is a step beyond. Every couple hours I find something new that is bad. There's no light switch in our room. At a certain point in the morning they just turn on the lights. This makes it nice and easy to get dressed, as you fumble in the dark.
So the hostel is bad, much worse than any we've had. The city is really nice. I like Venice, despite the hostel. We found a grocery store today, and food there (if not in restaurants) is quite reasonable, even cheap.
Turin was great. As previously related, we got in later in the evening, and nearly exhausted our considerable stores of energy finding food. The next day we awoke earlyish. There was a lock out at this hostel as well, but since we were only going to be there for one day, we would have been up anyway. The breakfast was quite good- homemade buns, and some cereal, but it was all you can eat, which are the best kinds of breakfasts.
We set out to see the sights. The thing that we had come to Turin to see was the Shroud of Turin. This is a long strip of linen cloth with the image of a man on it. You can see both his front and his back. The man on the shroud appears to bear the marks consistent with the Biblical description of crucifixion. There are wounds in the hands and feet and side, and there are marks on the forehead that could be from a crown of thorns. Catholics believe that this is the image of Christ, and that the shroud is the burial cloth of Christ. They did carbon dating on part of the cloth in the 80's and found that it dated from the 13th century. The Church claims this is in accurate since the sample they dated was from the edge of the cloth, which may have been contaminated. The really interesting thing is that they have no idea how the image was formed. They have never been able to replicate it. If it is a fake, it is a very very good one.
They have a museum about the shroud in Turin, since that is where it is kept. The shroud is rarely on display, the last time was in 2000 and the next in 2025. We walked all across the city to the museum, and got there at about 11. Turns out that it closes for siesta at 12. The museum is staffed by little old Italian men and women who look like they are all volunteers. One of them spoke English, and got us started. We watched a movie about the shroud that tells you all the wound that the man on the shroud bears, and picks them out so they are easier to see. It was pretty good. After this we went to the museum. It was smaller, and we had to rush a little to be out by 12, but we saw pretty much everything. They had exhibits on everything from the different types of plants associated with the shroud, to the history, to people trying to replicate the phenomena, to information on the cult of the shroud that sprang up. It was well organized, and very interesting. It left me in an interesting position. I have no trouble believing that it is the shroud of Christ, but I'm not entirely sure. Part of my is sceptical because I know that relics were such big business in the middle ages- a good fake would have brought in a lot of money. I don't know, but I think I sort of lean towards believing in it. It was a very persuasive museum.
We wanted to see the replica that they have hanging in a chapel above the museum, but had to wait till three when they re opened. For lunch we walked all the way back across the city to the same kebab joint we ate at the night before. On the way we saw the McDonalds that we had searched so hard for. It was only a couple blocks aways from where we were. Depressing really. We decided to boycott it, on account of it's being too hard to find. The kebab place was just as good the second time around.
With three hours to fill, and no other pressing sights, we walked around the city. We climbed up to a big church, Grande Madre de Dios, but it was closed. This is the church that, according to a city guide we picked up, "occasionally contains the remains of 5000 soldiers". We were looking forward to finding how that worked. Still even if it was closed, it provided us with a great view of the city, which is beautiful.
Finally it was 3, and we went back to the museum. The same lady from before took us into the chapel, where the replica is. The shroud is a very interesting thing, and quite odd to look at. The trouble was that she kept pointing out interesting architectural points of the chapel, making it hard to look at the replica.
After that, we went to the cathedral where they keep the original, and saw the box they store it in.
The rest of the afternoon was a blur of sitting by the Roman ruins and trying to feed pigeons pebbles.
That evening I spent patching my jeans, which have begun disintegrating on me. I guess I shouldn't have brought pants that were nearing the end of their useful life on a six month junket across Europe. I think there are ten holes at last count, plus the ones that come standard on pants. Most of the extraneous holes are patched to some degree of competence. Many years ago Dad gave me the worlds best thread. It is incredibly thick, and it works wonders on denim. It's pretty much this thread that's keeping me from breaking too many decency laws.
The next day, wearing my newly patched pants, we set off for Venice. After a not too long, and not too uncomfortable journey, we arrived. The city is beautiful, even if the hostel is not. I now know where Tim is, and am going to try to find him tonight.
