Italy
Florence
The birthplace of the Renaissance, Florence boasts some of Italy's best art with museums such as the Uffizi Gallery and the Accademia, home to Michaelangelo's David.
Cinque Terre
After a taste of big-city life, we lower our blood pressure in the Italian Riviera. The Cinque Terre means the "Five Lands." Five sleepy villages stretch out along the coastline. Buildings cling to cliffsides like giant barnacles. You can hike from village to village, munching on cactus fruit and getting a language lesson from a friendly Italian.
Tuscany
Visit the old manor house of the aristocratic Gori family and enjoy the simple elegance of Tuscan living.
Venice
Venice: Feature from the Black Lagoon
Venice: Feature from the Black Lagoon
Simon Griffith, producer of "Rick Steves' Europe," talks about filming the show:
The Venice most of us dream of is a "Kodak moment" that captures sleek gondolas gliding along romantic canals lined with elegant old palazzos. We don't think much about the soft, smelly muck upon which the city rests. Should we? Absolutely. Since Rick is committed to showing you the 'real' Europe, he insisted that we track down a location where he could illustrate what lies beneath all that decaying beauty.
Late one afternoon, we escaped the crowds and zipped out to the Laguna di Veneta in our friend Piero's speedboat — in search of the perfect mudbank. Faced with the challenge of rapidly fading light, we roared around checking out various low islands of grass and mud. Too much backlight … not deep enough for the boat … too deep to stand up. Nothing seemed just right. Running out of time, Rick eventually persuaded Piero to ignore the wisdom of seamanship and "coast" his launch into the muddy shallows.
Donning hip waders, Rick gingerly lowered himself over the bow of the boat and into the muck. Our cameraman Karel was terrified that Rick's expensive wireless microphone would fry itself in the seawater. I was already mourning the fact that Rick would ruin his one and only good-enough-for-TV shirt, as Piero nervously watched the tide suck the water from beneath his grounded boat. We thought Rick might just keep sinking into the ooze and we'd never get him out, but he delicately regained enough composure to tell the story of the birth of Venice – quite nicely.
Happily we broke free from the muddy suction and dragged Rick back into the boat, averting our imagined tragedies. As we cruised back to the city in the waning light, the splendor of Venice lay before us. Chalk another one up to the persistence of Rick, and his desire to deliver to you the real Europe.
Watch this video clip for a behind-the-scenes peek at our Venetian adventure.
— Simon Griffith, Producer/Director
In between filming, Rick wrote up this commentary:
Filming in Venice: October, 2001
Our final stop and program to film was Venice. The tourist board gave us free rooms in a five star hotel right behind Harry's Bar on St. Marks square. Extremely handy, but I could never see paying the $500 a night cost posted on my door. One problem with this range of hotels is the general outlook of people staying there — chasing clichés and wandering around all day with shopping bags in tow while learning astonishingly little. I just have a tough time relating to these kinds of travelers compared to the rougher, more on the ball vagabonds in cheaper, more characteristic hotels and pensiones.
My first morning was spent not in front of the camera but in front of the director of the local tourist board. He was enthusiastic that we had our work-sleeves rolled up and were going to battle for our permission needs. Getting permissions for filming the great sights of Venice was incredibly complicated… and expensive. But with his help, we succeeded.
The friars, old nobles, and officious groups controlling the historic treasures of Venice just didn't understand the value of what we were doing to promote their places. The Doges Palace wanted two million lire ($1000) to give us three hours inside filming. I said we didn't have that kind of budget and would be happy to do this show without going into that building. Surprisingly, they called back and said, "Okay, will you take one million?" I couldn't believe we were haggling with the Doge! Tempted to say "how about 600,000," I just accepted. The basilica of San Marco gave us an hour to film a few bits of the church but insisted on no people, no altar, and no talking. Understandably, they don't really care about the tourist attraction aspect of their houses of worship.
Filming in October, we had floods in Venice. No big deal, but it is fun to see tourists walking along the raised walkways. It was like Saint Mark's Square was lined with picnic tables actually leading into the flooded church. We were scrambling to show the dreamy and magical Venice and were having fits with the weather. You just don't want to shoot a great building with a white sky. I was praying for good weather and got it. Then I realized the down side. I wanted to actually show our viewers a flood in Venice and was waiting for good weather. The dilemma here: the city only floods when both a high tide and low barometric pressure drives the water higher in this north end of the Adriatic sea. We got our good weather-but that meant no more interesting flood scenes.
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| Racing around the lagoon after dark, a Venetian finds freedom in his boat (like an American digs his car). |
The first line I wrote of the Venice script had me standing in hip boots with a stick in lagoon mud, stranded in the middle of nowhere, saying "Venice was born in mud like this." The reality of getting there was something else. Exploring the lagoon in my friend Piero's speedboat we finally found a good spot. I pulled on the boots as Piero gingerly inched into the mud bar, keeping his stern out and engine free of muck. I jumped off the bow not knowing how deep I'd sink into the muck. I steadied myself, and stuck my staff — a broomstick Piero's girlfriend had grabbed for us — into the muck. Standing like St. Christopher, patron saint of travelers, I pulled my stick out of the water showing the Dark Ages muck dripping from it. I looked into the camera and said my line: "Venice was born in mud like this…"
Maximizing our Venetian experiences, we were atop the bell tower when the bells played ear-and-microphone splitting noise with a grand Venetian view. We toured a private palace: luxury mansion, business offices and import / export warehouse all under one roof fronting the Grand Canal, to illustrate the foundation of the city's wealth. Listening to lousy Vivaldi, we learned that musicians in powdered wigs and tights offer a better spectacle, but those in suits and ties play better music. And after much shopping, we found a friendly-looking gondolier who worked with us as we closed the show, lonely on a gondola at magic hour in Europe's most romantic city. One practical tip which didn't make it into the show: Locals warn women about the flirting of gondoliers. They say anyone who falls in love with a gondolier has "hams over her eyes."
Chatting with my friend Piero, he taught me a new phrase: "Viagiar descanta ma chi parte mona torna mona." Traveling opens your mind. But if you depart as a chump you return as a chump.
And I thought I came up with that idea.