Italy Day 14 – Finé

It’s our last day, and we start the morning in the most remarkable, most ordinary way.  We start our morning at “our” neighborhood bar.  Mamma greets us like family, like she greets everyone who walks in.  Mandy gets a fresh OJ with her morning cappuccino.  It’s a simple place, a simple ritual, a simple pleasure.  A smile, a ciao!, a few euros and we’re on our way. 

We have a scheduled tour of the Coliseum.  Friends who visited recommended a guide “because otherwise it’s just a pile of rocks”.  It was good advice and we tour with a group of just 12.  We were in another ancient coliseum in France last year (watching a live bullfight!), but this one is 3 or 4 times the size.  Our guide really was great at pointing out details we would have otherwise missed which gave us better feel of the lives of the people in the place at times through history. 

Our group merges with another and we walk across the street to the Forum.  I had no idea what to expect (I missed history class that day), but I definitely was not expecting a working archeological site.  I just figured it’s all been discovered by now.  After all, the city has been in continuous use for thousands of years, so how much of it could they lose track of?  I mean, Philly has been around since 1682, and we haven’t lost Broad Street, have we?  They are building a new subway stop near the Coliseum “and it’s taking forever.  Every time they dig down another 5 meters, they run into another civilization.”  It is estimated that only 30% of Roman ruins have been uncovered, so it’s still a very exciting place for archeologists and for us watching their methodical work.  

The two tours, along with the last 13 days, have left us happily spent.  We head back to Campo Di Fiori, the busy market square near our hotel, for lunch.  Each of the restaurants lining the square has their own front-man, a hawker who addresses passersbys trying to earn their business.  We’ve gotten good at ignoring them, but one is especially engaging and funny and draws us in.  The food on the tables looks good and they don’t have the tacky picture menus we have learned to stay away from.  We get a front row table to continue watching the show.  The Hawker really knows how to work people, and does so seamlessly in several languages, approaching couples and groups with ease and with humor.  Mandy decides he must be my long lost cousin, so at one point I get up to help him reel in a few more patrons.  Lunch, by the way was delicious. 

We wander through Piazza Navona, just strolling to get the most of our final afternoon.  One last gelato, this one at Le Gelateria Frigidarium, the high-water mark for gelato even in this town.  On a whim, we wander into the baroque Church of Sant’Agnese in Agone.  At this point, we’re kinda churched-out, but something draws us in.  We are stunned.  We have seen some spectacular cathedrals in our travels and even the Sistine Chapel just yesterday.  This one is breathtaking, the detail, the work, the dome, the colors.  Simply incredible.  We sit and take it in.  Even unplanned, chill days here end up being a nonstop highlight reel. 

Later that evening, we wander back to Piazza Navona for dinner at La Pace Del Palato.  It’s an intimate place, mom running the front of house and dad cooking in the back.  The food is simple.  Simple and perfect.  Big glasses of the house red beautifully cut the tangy sauce and sharp cheese.  We stroll the piazza, intentionally slowly, savoring our last night like we did the wine.  We stop for a nightcap at Cyba, a jazz bar with a cool vibe.  The three piece combo plays instrumentals of old standards, a fitting soundtrack to our Roman Holiday closing credits. 

It’s hard for find the superlatives to describe the experience of touring Italy.  This was Mandy’s first trip here, so it was great to be able to experience it for the first time – through her eyes – all over again.

Italy Day 13 – Michael, Michelangelo and Nino

We sleep in exhausted from yesterday’s travels and exploring.  Walking in Rome takes some getting used to because nearly all of the streets and alleys we encountered are paved with cobblestones.  These charming three-inch square stones are spaced almost an inch apart and form an uneven surface over a randomly sunken base.  Difficult for me to walk on in loafers or sneakers and damned treacherous for Mandy in anything like a fashionable woman’s shoe.  The residents of Rome generally have the same love/hate relationship with the cobbles which make pushing a stroller nearly impossible and slipping in wet weather nearly inevitable.  For us newbies, it just causes additional wear to our overworked feet.

We have a light breakfast at Café Peru, a neighborhood bar (coffee shop) catering to the neighbors.  Mama waits on the patrons at the counter and squeezes the OJ fresh for each order.  Her son expertly makes the caffe, a perfect heart on top of Mandy’s cappuccino.  Neither speaks much English, but I wield my 17 words of Italian like a pro to order a ham and cheese panini and even get it cut in half.  OK, so there was a bunch of finger pointing and shoulder shrugging, too, but hey, mission complete.  We watch a constant stream of locals stop in for a quick fix, nearly all of them addressed by name.  This is our kinda place. 

Our first destination today is a tour of Castel Sant’Angelo.  It’s a massive primitive round structure surrounded by an actual moat.  Built around 139AD as the Mausoleum of Hadrian, it has served as a military fortress, safe house for the Pope, and even as the Vatican prison.  Over the centuries, most of the original marble veneer has been looted leaving the current unbecoming exterior.  The place is massive, and we really love the statue of the Archangel Michael who reportedly appeared atop the mausoleum sheathing his sword to signal the end of the plague of 590AD. 

We have lunch in Borgo Pio, the medieval neighborhood just east of the Vatican.  The Borgo (as we his friends call him), offers a lively afternoon scene and proves that it’s really easy to find a good restaurant in Rome. 

Next stop: the Vatican.  Mandy prepurchased timed tickets for the fabled Vatican Museum and Sistine Chapel.  I’m a recovering Catholic – they say you’re never really cured – as I made a conscious decision to leave the church many years ago.  So going to the Vatican is a mixed bag for me.  The museum is absolutely massive impossible to see in a single day, but Mandy has done some research and has specific galleries she wants to see.  The Egyptian galleries are fascinating, with mummies of sovereigns displayed with their Tut-like sarcophagus.  The tapestries gallery is especially engrossing, and we cannot imagine the talent required to hand make these huge works out of thread with the detail of a single hair paintbrush.  We did not realize that the maps in the map gallery were actually painted on the wall and used to locate the churches throughout the country like pins on a GPS map. 

Of course, the highlight of the visit is the Sistine Chapel, but not how we expected it.  Like most, when we thought of Michelangelo’s masterpiece, we pictured The Creation of Adam, God’s outstretched hand reaching out to the first man.  I imagined this feature to be huge and prominent.  While it is in the center of the chapel, it is just one feature in a very complex work.  Apparently, Michelangelo set out to paint the history of the world leading up to the coming of Jesus, and God’s creation of man is just one vignette in this multifaceted picture story.  In its entirety, it is a bit overwhelming, so Mandy and I find seats along the edge of the chapel and just take it in for a while.  It has been a long day.  Trying to find our way out, we stumble into the Gallery of the Popemobiles.  OK, I’m sure it’s called something else, but that’s what it is.  From the Papal Carriage to the Papal VW, all the greats are here. 

Walking home, we stop for a gelato on Borgo Pio.  Gelato is huge here, and Mandy insists on finding the small batch artisan kind, not the massed produced stuff.  The fig-and-waffle was out of this world.  Almost back to the hotel, and really into the rhythm of Rome, we stop back at Café Peru for a quick caffe.  Mama knows us by now and greets us with a welcoming smile.  Loaded with sugar and caffeine, we do what comes naturally.  Nap. 

Dinner is at Nino, just off the Piazza di Spagna and near the Spanish Steps.  Nino has been an “it” restaurant for decades in Rome, a place to see and be seen.  The restaurant lives up to its hype by remaining true to its Tuscan roots.  While the wine list is extensive, we order the house red which is served in juice glasses, of course.  We close the night with the Via Del Corso Stroll from the Spanish Steps to Trevi Fountain.  The Trevi Fountain was beautiful during the day, but even more stunning by night. 

Italy Day 12 – Road to Rome

We’re packed and ready early, caffe at the bar with the commuters.  This morning we’re joining those commuters on the ferry to Naples.  This high speed hydrofoil makes the run across the Bay of Naples in just 40 minutes, and this is our first time on a vessel like this.  Here’s what we learned.  Unlike a boat with a standard hull, the hydrofoil rides on top of the water instead of cutting through it.  That means in today’s big swells the front of the boat is rising and falling about nine feet at a time, over and over and over and over.  Add that pit-of-your-stomach roller coaster feeling each time and this was not the experience we were hoping for.  I look around and realize a few things.  1) The back of the boat is bouncing way less than the front of the boat.  2) We are in the very front of the boat.  3) Those smart commuters are in the back of the boat, unaffected.  4) Mandy is turning funny colors.  My engineering education has not gone to waste as proven by our decision to change seats.  The rest of the ride is mercifully uneventful.

Docking in Naples, we wrestle our bags to the line at the taxi stand.  Cab scams are rampant in Naples, and our driver loads us and another couple headed for the airport into a cab together.  Only problem is we are headed for the train station.  Cabbie thinks he’s slick as he “accidently” throws his hat over the meter.  I open my door and step out, negotiate a flat rate to the station and demand to be dropped off first.  Once we’re settled, he turns out to be an excellent driver. 

About driving in Italian cities.  At first glance it appears to be total chaos, but there’s a rhythm to it, a flow, a hierarchy.  When we commented on the crazy motorbike drivers to our driver to Sorrento. she explained that “we all buy those bikes so we can weave through traffic”.  It’s expected.  Our cab driver will make illegal U-turns, but will yield to any bike trying to squeeze through.  So the hierarchy goes like this:  The busses and trucks let the cars slip through.  The cars let the scooters and bicycles slip through.  And pedestrians are king and everybody comes to a stop for them.  It’s way less crazy once we understood.

The high-speed train to Rome is peaceful sanity.  The first thing we see as we disembark are three lingerie shops including Victoria’s Secret.  Not sure what they were expecting on the train, but I’m willing to take another ride and find out.  We cab it to Hotel Indigo on Via Giulia.  It’s a swank boutique in a very cool section of town.  I should thank my travel agent, so I decide to buy her lunch.

We head to Campo de’ Fiori, a square ringed with restaurants and the market filling the interior.  Lunch is a yummy affair in an outdoor café involving a calzone like pizza, squash blossoms, rocket salad with cherry tomatoes (rocket = arugula) and of course daydrinks.  We check our hotel map and decide we can walk to something called Piazza della Rotonda.  We get there and wonder what the big old building with the columns is and wonder why so many people are looking at it.  I check the sign.  Oh, it’s just the Pantheon.  Rome is like that.  You just wander down the street and trip over the 8^th Wonder of the Ancient world. 

The famed Trevi Fountain is only a few minute walk from here, so we set that as our next destination.  Sometimes when something is so famous it can’t possibly live up to the expectations.  I’ve seen the massive animated fountains in Vegas.  I’ve walked in the best fountains in Paris.  Turns out, this one is by far my favorite.  The scale is massive, 160’ across and 86’ high, it’s the entire width of the square bearing its name.  It’s also a creative marvel.  Instead of being a fountain in a tub in the middle of the square, it’s seamlessly integrated into the façade of the palace behind it.  Architecture and sculpture, water and stone, nature and man, power and tranquility.  Well, tranquility may be a stretch, as the place is mobbed. 

It seems we’ve accidently started the Heart of Rome Walk, so we continue onward.  Next stop is coffee at Gran Café in Piazza Di Pietra, right across from the Temple of Hadrian, a huge Roman temple façade with 11 massive columns.  It was built in 145AD in dedication to Hadrian, the first man of non-nobile lineage to rule the Roman Empire.  We head to Castel Sant’Angelo but are stopped in our tracks by yet another massive and beautiful structure. This one is not a museum or palace, but the Palace of Justice, the working home of the Italian Supreme Court.  We had to read the sign to figure out this one, too.  Like I said, Rome is just like that.  We loop back to the hotel, feet exhausted.

Rome, like Philly, is a city of neighborhoods.  Mandy has a few specific neighborhoods she wants to explore and tonight it’s Trastevere.  A bohemian area with a lively night scene, virtually every bar offers a happy hour where for about 10€ you can get a drink and munch off the buffet.  Needless to say, this area is flocked with students and young working professionals from late afternoon to late evening.  We dine at Taverna Trilussa, a century old joint decorated with a dizzying variety of prosciutto and cheeses.  After our meat and cheese sampler appetizer, I get the traditional Carbonara (the best we have had) and Mandy gets their specialty Ravioli Mimosa, a secret recipe that tastes exactly as good as it sounds.  We stroll home through the energetic district taking in the sounds and sights of modern Rome in these ancient streets.

Italy Day 11 – Chill in Sorrento

I’m not sure why I was surprised that Sorrento has become one of the go-to playgrounds for the Brits and Irish.  It’s a short flight and the weather here is many orders of magnitude better.  So I’m not surprised that on the menu at the café in the main square I see the Full English Breakfast, something introduced to me by my business partner during a trip to Hong Kong last year.  If you’ve ever experienced this gastronomic oddity, you know the real reason why we declared our independence in 1776.  Mandy has not, so I order it.  Included are eggs, toast and Parma ham (in lieu of the traditional bacon), some weird, mostly cold, gray hot dog (in lieu of the traditional “bangers”, English sausages), baked beans and a slice of unripe tomato sitting on some wet iceberg lettuce.  Mandy is appalled.  I tell her that the reason this exists is for optimism.  No matter what happens next, you day is guaranteed to get better.

Lemons permeate the culture here, celebrated in the fabrics, ceramics, food and, of course, the lemoncello.  The area is covered in lemon fields, and the trees, loaded with fruit, are everywhere you look.  We make our way to the last working grove in town, leaving the tourist area and walking through work-a-day Sorrento.  The groves have been operated by the same family for generations and it’s nice that they are preserved here.  The tasting room is just tacky enough to qualify as a 60s roadside attraction, and the cello is the best we have tasted, less sweet than most. 

We head back to the center of town.  All the British vacationing has inevitably morphed into a significant expat population with the pubs and restaurants to support them.  Fish and chips, pints and liters of good beer and 24 hour football – European football that is – are always right at hand.  Except for Sunday in the fall.  Apparently the NFL has taken a foothold across the pond, so this afternoon the big screens in The English Pub are tuned to the Dolphins Patriots game, the crowd loudly cheering each play. 

We stumble across an art exhibit that turns out to be Gallery Raffaele Celentano, home of the celebrated Italian photographer.  Celentano’s work beautifully captures the whimsy, irony and emotion of life in Southern Italy, the location as much a personality as the people in each shot.  One of his iconic works is a shot of nuns pushing each other on a balcony swing overlooking Sorrento.  That balcony is right out back, so I try my hand at the art with my favorite model.  Raffaele is here today, so meeting the artist makes seeing his work all the better.  In an adjoining gallery, there is a Sophia Loren exhibit documenting the Italian bombshell’s career through photos.

We had planned on going the “beach” today.  It’s not a traditional beach as the rock cliffs drop sharply into the sea, leaving little room for sand.  Instead, these man-made beaches involve pairs or groups of lounge chairs with umbrella arranged in neat rows on long docks made specifically for the purpose and forming a nice swimming area.  It’s been threatening rain all day so our beach plans are scrapped but we’re still thankful as weather has been near perfect this entire trip.  In fact, we watch as a crew of men work to pack one of the beaches away for the season, folding up the long row of colorful changing rooms and pulling up the deck.

The rain finally arrives right before dinner.  Yesterday our Captain recommended Del Fino in Marina Grande so we made reservations.  Leaving our flat, we run into a couple just in from Boston taking shelter under the same canopy as us.  They’re looking for the same restaurant but came to the wrong marina.  We share a cab and I wait an entire 4 seconds before bringing up the Super Bowl.  I’m good like that.  I introduce myself to the hostess, who lights up when I mention my Italian name.  A guy could get used to this.  Dinner is a delightful array of local seafood made by a team of chefs who know exactly how to handle it.  For the first time in my life, I feel like I know what I’m doing when I look at the wine list, picking a Nobile di Montepulciano Riserva (it helps that we just came from there).  Paying the bill, we strike up a conversation with the hostess who still lights up every time she calls me “Pasqualeayyy!”  She sends each of us off with a tiny blessed mother charm, telling us how fortunate she is and wanting to share her blessings with us. 

Italy Day 10 – A Day on the Sea (or We’re Impressed That We’re Still Being Impressed)

We charter a 25’ boat with a captain, an experienced gentleman named Franchesco who goes by Cheecho.  It’s an extravagance for sure, but we really want to explore the coast from the water.  The water was choppy yesterday in the big ferry and no different today, so Mandy is worried.  Cheecho has the relaxed confidence that 30 years on the water provides and Mandy trusts him right from the start.  We discuss the day with our Captain and decide that Positano should be our first destination.  We set out and Cheecho expertly works the throttle and rudder of the heavy, powerful vessel to smooth out the waves.  Not only do we have a skipper, but an experienced tour guide as well, a man proud of his home and eager to show us it’s hidden beauties.  After just a few minutes, we pull into Marina Grande, the working marina full of fishing boats, fishermen and deck hands.  The boats are beautiful in their own right, purpose built from noble plans and painted colors that reflect the style of the region. 

We continue our journey along the coastline, Cheecho showing us features of the shoreline along the way.  It’s always an event when you get to look at the sea from the edge of the land.  It’s an even more special event to survey this land from the edge of the sea.  Water crashing against the rocks, you can hear the echoes of the eruptions that created this place.  At the point of peninsula, we pass the lighthouse and the Gulf of Naples becomes the Gulf of Salerno, our direction switching from west to east.  Along the way Captain pulls the boat into tiny caves and crevices to give us up-close-and-personal views of the topology.  At one small cove, he backs us right under a tall waterfall for an icy freshwater shower.  At the next cove, I jump in for a quick swim in the azure water.  We disembark in Positano to explore this fabled Amalfi Coast town.  Amerigo Vespucci would be proud that we did an entire 30 minutes of exploring before retiring to the nearest beach bar for a drink.  It’s a nice place to stare at the sea and just be for a few minutes. 

We’re not sure exactly how we’re supposed to let Cheecho know we are ready to go, so we just walk to the dock.  Out of nowhere, with not so much as a hand gesture, our boat appears.  A crowd of very well dressed people in a very well-heeled town parts for us as we step onto our waiting craft like it was choreographed.  It was totally baller.  On our way back out, just because this day isn’t going perfectly enough, a huge sea plane skims down the side of the mountain and does a water touchdown right alongside our speeding boat. 

On our skipper’s recommendation, we head towards Capri.  He knows we were there the day before, promising us a completely different experience.  He’s right.  This smaller craft can explore the island more intimately.  First stop is Anacapri, a very exclusive little town on the opposite side of the island and over the mountain from the town of Capri.  Cheecho is known around these parts and has the best table at Da Gioia (http://www.dagioiacapri.com/en/) reserved for us for lunch.  The corner table on the terrace wonderfully overlooks the beach below and the sea beyond.  If you were going to build a movie set for a romantic lunch, this would be it.  Pretty much everything we ordered was either picked or caught today and the sea bass was simply grilled with salt and expertly fileted tableside.  After lunch we take a dip at their private beach where, of course, lounge chairs are waiting for us.  We travel a lot, and we understand in real time this has become one of our single best days.

Cheecho saves the Blue Grotto for last.  We were not able to go into the Blue Grotto the previous day because the tide was high too high for the row boats to bring us in.  Cheecho intentionally brings us during high tide during the late afternoon today and we’re confused.  He explains that during low tide, there is an hour wait to get into one of the row boats and you go into the grotto with many dozens of other people.  We’re going to do a much more intimate visit.  We jump in to the cool water with small swim rings and paddle ourselves about 15 yards to the mouth of the cave.  There is a chain along the wall to pull yourself in, but you have to time the waves just right so as to not knock your head on the top of the entrance way.  We make it into the dark cave where we encounter a pair of twenty-something women.  One of the women is clinging onto the chain, terrified to go any further.  I swim in a few strokes and the blue in the Blue Grotto starts to reveal itself to me.  Back at the chain, Mandy askes the young woman “Where are you from?”

“France”, she replies. 

Mandy slips under the chain, turns back to her and says “Come on France, take my hand.  We’ll do this together.”

I remember why I love her.

The blue in the Blue Grotto happens because the sunlight bounces under the water to enter the cave, causing the most amazing color natural light you can imagine.  The further you go in, the more of the water is illuminated.  We swim all the way to the back wall and the entire cave is simply glowing, shimmering.  It’s like being inside a sapphire.  We have gone to very popular tourist destinations on this trip and encountered the expected crowds at each.  To have this experience with just a few other people is very extraordinary indeed.

We return home, thank our captain and unwind at our flat for a bit.  On an internet recommendation, we make a reservation at Bistro Sorrento (https://bistro-di-villa-caprile.business.site/), a few minutes up the mountain from the center of town and away from the tourist area.  When we walk in I introduce myself for the reservation.  “Pasquale?  Pasquale?  I’m Pasquale!  I was expecting an Italian!”  I explain to him that at home, I’m Italian, here I’m American.  The restaurant is elegantly modern, lots of white and concealed lighting with a cool vibe.  The architectural equivalent to a linen suit on a summer day.  We pick a table with a view of the compact and spotless open plan kitchen.  Pasquale explains that his son is the chef and his other son is picking up some patrons right now.  We start with the cheese platter, all selections local.  It is simply the most beautiful of its kind we have ever seen, prepared right in front of us with such amazing care and attention to detail that we just look at it for a bit.  The show continues as we watch Chef, with the help of only one sous chef, make dish after dish with the same delicate touch.  Calm and professional, we watch him make about 100 separate dishes, including our own unbelievable steak entrée.  After such an amazing day, we are again blown away.  When we ask our waiter to call a cab for us, he walks us out front, puts us in his Audi convertible and drives us back to town himself.

Ten days into a trip full of highlights, we’re most impressed that Italy can still impress us.