sabbatical

Rome – the End or the Beginning?

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I’m writing this in December 2025, and am only just now finishing up the events of our 2023 sabbatical. I never dreamed it would take two years to write up six months of travel…and I promise that FromSwamptoSummit will become more timely. Transporting us back to November 2023….

We had two days left in Rome and much more than two days worth of things to see and do.

Of course, a trip to the Vatican Museum was essential. We woke up very early to arrive for an 8 a.m. tour, which was the only slot available. We took a taxi – Rome is the only city in which we used taxis. We arrived way too early, only to be totally ripped off by buying double coffees at the cafe across the street, but I needed the caffeine.

The Vatican Museum is a trip. The building itself is comprised of room after room of frescos, topped off, of course, by the Sistine Chapel. The ceiling depicts Michelangelo’s universe – a sea of writhing bodies, with his worldly enemies and friends inserted as characters. It is a sea of movement. No photography permitted…hence, no images here.

Other rooms house ancient statutes and the spoils of the papacy. There’s a dearth of depictions of women, except for the idealized Virgin and sometimes Mary Magdalene or a few other saints. After the tour ended, we stayed longer to look at the first and second century artifacts.

Finally we walked to the Piazza Risorgimento and waited to meet up with C. We managed to locate her charming turquoise mini and she gave us a tour through the lovely residential area by Vatican City. We found parking not far from Via Corso, and had a great lunch at a hole in the wall place with a 10 euro menu, then walked by the Spanish Steps, high end shopping, into the new Bulgari hotel and several ancient coffee houses. Especially notable was one of C’s favorites – the doll repair shop.

We said our farewells to C, and took our time walking back to the Airbnb. After resting, we enjoyed aperitivo across the street where they served pistachios and peanuts, and dinner at an Argentinian restaurant recommended by our Airbnb host.

Our final day in Rome – and of our six weeks in Europe – not only involved packing, but also a trip back in time to the coliseum, which we’d only briefly perused from the outside. We arrived early for our tour, only to find that I’d booked one that was conducted in Italian! But my dear friend Rick Steves once again came to the rescue and we were able to depart from our group and instead follow his guided audio tour. They are very strict about entry times and we had just enough time to buy gelato before going in.

All I can say about the Coliseum is that the bloodthirstiness of human beings is highly concerning. As Caligula said in Robert Graves’ I Claudius on Masterpiece Theater, after engaging a particularly gory murder, “Aren’t people awful?”

Random facts: Prisoners were forced to dress as historical figures who had been killed and reenact their deaths in real time. The first theatrical sets were designed at the Coliseum – sets were raised up from a basement below the floor using a pulley system. Rome originally held one million people, but in the Dark Ages, its population shrank to less than 10,000, at which point the Coliseum became used for housing, workshops, and stables, among other things.

It’s still clearly the model for current arenas, at least with regard to the layout, although hopefully not the contents. Different tiers according to social class, reserved seatings, and you could even contribute mementos for your favorite gladiator.

Afterwards we talked to the Forum and Palatine Hill, also included in our admission. I wished we’d had more time. We saw the tomb of Julius Caesar, the Curia, the temple of the Vestal Virgins, the massive three arches from Constantine (Maximum). and the palace itself – labyrinthine, dark, high arched ceilings and a road that traveled through the middle of all of it. East to imagine royal intrigue.

After, back to our Airbnb for a late lunch, a final aperol spritz, and dinner at a neighborhood spot that turned out to be very good. Roast beef, potatoes, spinach, pasta amatriciana, panne cotta.

Somehow this photo of the Baths of Neptune, 3rd Century AD at the airport sums up Rome

On November 15 we walked up to the train station, and took an express train to the airport where I successfully smuggled C’s marmalade on board in my carryon. When I wrote this in my travel journal over two years ago, we had six more hours of flying left.

Roaming in Rome with the Romans

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We started our trip to Rome from Orvieto early the morning of November 11. From the Duomo we took the shuttle bus to the funicular, and then had quite a lengthy wait at the train station, but it was sunny and nice, so not too bad.

The train was fine, with only one stop, although we didn’t get seats together. We ate our sandwiches, arrived at the Roma Terminii, and walked to the Airbnb without issue. Very sunny and lots of people, a real contrast to Orvieto.

After we got settled, we ventured out to the Coliseum, which was only two blocks away. It was a total mob scene. Souvenir hawkers, etc. You walk along a very unprepossessing graffiti-embellished street and suddenly there it is. We didn’t stay long – on the way back to our Airbnb we saw police in riot gear barricading the street and could hear the 50,000 person opposition march about Gaza approaching. We retreated to the Monti area – our Airbnb was on Via del Boschetto – lots of cafes, restaurants, small shops and the St. Louis College of Music. And a furniture upholsterer.

We had an aperitif at a nearby spot and then managed to find a taxi at a taxi rank to visit my old high school friend and partner in crime, C, and her husband. They live right by the Vatican on the other side of the Tiber. The taxi driver had absolutely no idea where he was going and ultimately consulted a paper book of maps. Not sure when I last saw one of those. Finally we just got out and walked.

We arrived a little early – their apartment has a beautiful view of St. Peter’s. We enjoyed lovely Sicilian style pasta, courtesy of C’s husband, and I later managed to smuggle the marmalade made at their country property onto the plane.

Sunday was our “free” day. We slept in and then started to wander toward Vatican City. On the way we stopped at the Trevi Fountain – it was mobbed but you could still see the beautiful sea sculptures – then along the Via Argentina where multiple Roman ruins line the roads. Every time you dig, you find something.

We walked past the Bank of Italy – with lots of large green parrots in palm trees. And passed by the gaudy and over the top huge Vitore Emmanuel monument. I can only describe it as baroque gone bad.

We finally found a lunch place where we had a nice conversation with a young Canadian couple, possibly on their honeymoon. Their rings looked very new. We bought Italian ties as gifts from a small men’s clothing store.

And I almost forgot to mention the incredible Pantheon and the accompanying Rick Steves audio tour. (No, I am not receiving kickbacks for my continuous references to my friend Rick.) The Pantheon is still definitely not Christian, despite all the efforts to make it so. I loved the open oculus at the top of the dome, and kept wondering it would be like if it rained.

We finally made our way across the Tiber to St. Peter’s Square, by mid afternoon, where we did another Rick Steves audio tour. The basilica itself is enormous. Lots of priests, monks and nuns. Michelangelo’s Pieta (behind bullet proof glass), in contrast to most of the paintings and statues that you can almost touch. We stayed around for 5 p.m. Vespers. Priests in white and purple in the choir, Monsignors with pom pom hats, bishops in purple, officiants in green, and a sole cardinal in red. A sermon in Italian where an elderly bishop (who had to be helped out in and out of the stalls) definitely nodded off. I wonder if after they all retired to happy hour and dinner afterwards? Incense, green vestments spread wide like giant wings at the altar – we were at least all given a book of the service to follow. It’s interesting to put the Reformation in the context of all this.

A very brisk walk back. That night we ate at a simple restaurant near us that had already put up its Christmas decorations. Classic Roman pasta – Amatriciana sauce (J) and carbonara (me).

Much more to see and do, and only two days left.

2023 Sabbatical Continues: Final Day in Cortona and Back on the Road

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Our last day at our Tuscan farmhouse (I only wish it really were ours) was slotted for an exploration of Cortona itself. It was a beautiful, sunny, and finally not so windy November day in 2023.

We started by finding the very steep, narrow, both stone and dirt paths that led up the hills to the lower part of Cortona. There weren’t many people on the street and hardly any tourists.

We finally located the famous Etruscan barrel vault, dating back to the 4th Century BC, then wandered through town, especially enjoying the public bulletin boards on which were posted funeral and other announcements. A visit to the Cathedral on the main square was next up, followed by the Church of San Francesco, which supposedly houses a relic of the Holy Cross.

Luca Signorelli was a native of Cortona, an influencer of Michelangelo, Raphael and other great Renaissance artists, and his 500th anniversary (of death? Of birth?) had just happened – hence, many festivals had apparently just been held in his honor and we saw a lot of his art throughout Cortona.

The Church of San Francesco, where Signorelli is thought to be buried, was very empty and austere. It dates back to 1247, and was started on orders of Brother Elias, a close companion of St. Francis. It is home to more relics of St. Francis – his tunic, a New Testament, and a cushion he used, all dating back 750 years. It was touching to see these, and as they supposed to have come to the church directly from his compatriot Fra. Elias, I like to believe a more genuine provenance.

After lunch at one of the few open cafes, we stopped at wine shop where the salesperson told us about the Basilica of St. Margaret at what turned out to be the top of Cortona. We walked up and up a steep stone path, designed for pilgrims, and lined with the Stations of the Cross. At least J and I didn’t do it on our knees, as they would have.

We saw even more churches along the path – the Chiesa Inferiore di S. Marco, with another ornate ceiling – and also completely empty of either pilgrims or people. We finally made it to the top, where we were awarded with amazing views.

The church itself dates back to 13th/14th century, but its typical duomo front was added much later. In keeping with the theme of the day, the only people there were J, me, and some people working on restoration of some of the walls. The ceiling was reminiscent of the church in Assisi – blue sky illuminated by stars. It appears that the body of St. Margaret is entombed right on the alter itself, which added a certain bizarreness to the entire place.

Just above the church, higher up on the hill, is a Medici fort and castle. It was closed, of course, but still interesting from the outside – very storybook like.

We made our way back down by the serene Chiesa di S. Nicole, a very small church perched behind a grassy area. It was one of the few churches we saw that was actually not open for visitors.

The next day we departed our idyllic Tuscan retreat. Time to get back on the road. We woke up early to see clouds below us in the valley and lots of ground fog, which made for quite a dramatic drive into Siena to return our rental car. After encountering a few navigational glitches, mostly due to road construction (which seemed to be the story of our entire sabbatical), we took a taxi to the train station. After a fairly long wait, we were on our way to Orvieto, our last stop before Rome.

Touring Tuscany and Umbria

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Our first of several days in Tuscany (that is, November 5, 2023, just to give a temporal context) was supposed to be a rest day, given that we had been traveling almost non-stop for a month. But there’s no rest for the weary, and we soon found ourselves heading toward Lake Trisimeno, which we could see in the distance from our Airbnb.

After unsuccessfully looking on the internet for any trails to hike, we simply drove in the direction of Castiglione del Lago, a charming hilltop town. There were hardly any tourists or traffic, despite a very interesting castle where we were able to have a picnic lunch. We walked through the town, enjoying the medieval vibe and the lack of crowds, and then down to the lake where we walked the perimeter for an hour or so. There were lots of cafes, but everything was closed for the season. I’m sure it’s crazy in the summer.

Enjoyed getting to cook again that night – fresh papperdelle with a vegetable sauce and artichokes.

The next day we decided to tour some of the famous hill towns of Tuscany. From Cortona we drove across the valley on some seriously narrow roads with so many vistas of Tuscany hills we kept having to stop to take photos.

Ultimately we reached Pienza. The town is atop a hill, but on a flat plateau so you avoid some of the ups and downs. It too was empty at this time of year; we managed to locate ourselves on the Rick Steves audio tour and found the main square – where the grid lines of the squares line up with the palazzos to form a “Renaissance cube.” We finally found a spot outdoors where you are allowed to eat (very strict rules about this!).

We looked into some interesting – almost stark – Romanesque churches, adorned with peeling frescos on the walls. The town itself was beautifully preserved – narrow lanes, stone buildings, and what I can only call red creeper vines.

With only a few wrong turns, we drove to Montepulciano. It’s an equally charming, but much larger, hill top town. And not crowded. We were definitely experiencing the joys of the so-called “shoulder season.” We managed to situate ourselves on the map; and visited the Parroccia Santissimo Nom di Gesu – a very ornate church whose painted 3D illusions (trompe l’oeil, to use a little French), were captivating.

The main duomo, whose facade was never actually finished, was closed and booths outside were being erected for the Christmas market, to the great interest of on lookers. . We also visited the Contucci wine caves, where J bought some very expensive wine. The family still lives in their palazzo on the main square.

I especially liked the contrades building which still posted lists of births and deaths in the neighborhood. Instead of the horse races of Siena, in Montepulciano the contrades push wine casks uphill. Incidentally, this is also the place that J saw $1000 bottles of brunello.

By now it was mid afternoon, and time to make our way back to Cortona. All the wrong turns we made were compensated for by the very expensive bottle of Contucci wine.

Under the Tuscan . . . .

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Well, I’m not sure how far I can take the title without plagiarizing, but we actually were staying in a farmhouse in an olive grove, just below the hill city of Cortona, site of Under the Tuscan Sun. But it wasn’t all sunshine – this was now November (2023) and there were a fair amount of clouds and drizzle (although nothing to rival the quasi hurricane we’d experienced as we left Florence).

We had a fairly uneventful drive from Siena to Cortona, although our AirBnb proved a little difficult to find. It was too early to check in, so we found parking and traipsed up the hill to the walled town. The Saturday market was in full swing – cheese and meats and vegetables, but lots of clothes, etc as well. It’s a charming town but still full of tourists, even in early November.

It was chilly and rainy, so we found a small lunch place where the local vegetable soup – enhanced by bread floating in the broth – was very welcome. J had a coffee and they brought over a complimentary biscuit and a bowl full of apricots and pomegranate kernels.

We managed to check into the Airbnb an hour early. It’s up a long dirt driveway that runs through an olive grove. There are a few other houses nearby but it still felt very secluded. We are on the ground floor of a stone farmhouse, and we were the very first guests to stay there.

The mother (no English) and the daughter (some English) welcomed us with a bottle of wine and olive oil that had been pressed the day before from their olive trees. It is olive harvesting season – we have seen lots of electric “shakers” that launch the olives into a net for processing. Olive trees grow like weeks here – their silver sage color is everywhere.

The Airbnb was super nice – a good kitchen, stone walls, spacious, and a TV with Netflix. Something we haven’t had for a very long time. After checking in we went to the nearby Coop grocery store – it was very large and had great produce. We stocked up – it was so nice to have a kitchen again. Prices were very reasonable – sparkling water was a whopping 24 cents.

That night, appropriately enough, we watched Under a Tuscan Sun, which was filmed in Cortona. I made braised chicken, ratatouille, and roast potatoes for dinner, capped off with cantucci and vin santo.

I could get used to this Tuscan farmhouse life.

Scenes from Siena

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Starting off the year 2025 with a return to fall 2023….and scenes from Siena.

We managed the train from Florence to Siena easily. The fact there were no changes helped. But we weren’t at all sure how to get from the train station to the actual city of Siena, which is perched on top of a hill well above the station. We had read about a series of ramps and escalators, so dutifully took several up (one of which didn’t work) – only to discover that it was school letting out time, there was no way we were going to figure out the bus system, and there was no sign of a taxi rank. 

Accordingly, we took the same lengthy series of ramps and escalators back down – and located the taxi rank on a much lower level. The very pleasant taxi driver ultimately found an open gate into the walled city and deposited us at our small hotel – the Palazzo Bulgarini. It turns out that palazzo means building, not palace, which was a little disappointing. 

No one answered the bell, so we stopped at the cafe next door where the server said she could help us out. She opened the gate, found an envelope with our names and the name of our room (Iris) on it, and showed us to our room. At least there were fewer stairs than at the Bellevue in Florence.

It was very dark, and there was a rather dank smell, but an absolutely remarkable painted barrel shaped ceiling made up for all that. Fleur de Lis and swans – there was no telling how old the place was, but we were only five minutes from the Il Campo square.

Siena is famous for its Contrades (districts) – we thought we were in the unicorn one but were never quite sure. Once a year the contrades compete in a bareback horse race around I’ll Campo and the horse that wins (with or without a rider) receives a Virgin Mary banner to wave around for the rest of the year. There are 17 contrades and I think 11 get to compete.

We settled in and then walked through the wind and rain to Il Campo to get our bearings. Il  Campo (Piazaa del Campo) is constructed of red brick with steep banks – it’s almost like a public meadow of red brick. Unbeknownst to us, storm Ciaran was hitting Florence and northern Tuscany on its way toward us and the red brick meadow was getting very wet.

We managed to shelter in one of the Il Campo cafes – we sat inside with a beautiful view of the square, nice martinis, and lovely aperitivo that they brought to us gratis. We truly couldn’t figure out why others were sitting outside in the cold. We headed back to the hotel, and found a reasonably priced restaurant on the way, where I enjoyed observing an elegantly coiffed older couple out for the evening ( her four inch high salt and pepper hair literally did not move).

Rick Steves again served as our tour guide the next day. Il Campo to the Duomo. The Duomo was one of the most remarkable churches we’ve seen – detailed floor mosaics and a Michelangelo St. Paul. Amazingly enough, we happened to be there while an organist rehearsed for his concert that night, so were able to experience the church in a musical, as well as visual way.

We exited by the unfinished wing of the church. In 1339, the citizens of Siena decided to build a new nave so they would have the biggest church in all Christendom. A lesson in hubris – the plague ended up killing off most of the population and it was never completed.

Just as we left, the skies opened. Luckily we found a cozy cafe for lunch and when it cleared up we resumed Rick’s tour. This included the oldest bank in Europe (where the concept of collateral was invented) and the Basilica Cateriniana di San Domenico. It was quite a change from the Duomo. Huge high Romanesque wood ceiling, almost stark – and St. Catherine’s head supposedly housed somewhere behind a mask in the chapel. The stained glass was modern and somehow I found the church more moving than the Duomo. This had been the home of nuns. 

We returned to the hotel and were going to try out the nearby craft beer place but the police were there shutting it down. Hmm. Instead we managed to get into a very good restaurant- J had pork chops with oranges and pistachios and I had pici with cheese, greens and sautéed vegetables. There we discovered cantucci with vin santo – biscotti that you dip into a late harvest wine. An Italian version of dunking a donut. And pane cotta with macerated berries. All under fifty euros. Wow.

We had another stormy night. The next morning, the hotel manager was actually at the hotel and was able to get us a taxi. Next thing we knew we were at the car rental place . . . And off to a farmhouse in Tuscany for a few days – where I was looking forward to an actual kitchen.

Renaissance Revelry and Frolics in Florence

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It was time for our first Italian train adventure – Venice to Florence. Our first change of trains was in Bologna, a gritty industrial city, at least as far as we could glean from the very large train station. Fortunately we figured out in time that “est” and “oest” 1 were different ends of the platform, not different platforms, and managed to board our train within the allotted 20 minutes. The trains all seemed very new; only second class seats were available so there were no reserved spots. 

The flat plain between Venice and Bologna gave way to the rolling hills of Tuscany – many of which we didn’t see because we were in tunnels going through them. Change of trains #2 occurred in Prato – a much smaller station and easier to manage. It was only 20-30 minutes from there to Florence.

Florence (or Firenze) – uniform, yellowing, four-story buildings, narrow streets. It was easy to project yourself back in time. Our guesthouse, the Bellevue House, was a single floor of one of those buildings, quite close to the station. You could reach it by taking a very small elevator or climbing three long flights of stairs. Needless to say, we chose the stairs. It’s a family owned place – an Italian husband and Australian wife who had great restaurant recommendations. A nice small bathroom, shutters, terrazzo floors and a fresco on the ceiling, a view of courtyards, and most miraculously – screens on the windows.

We walked to the Piazza Santa Maria Novella and environs and enjoyed a martini at one of the bars on the square – more tortilla chips offered as aperitivo!

Then we went to La Grotta di Leo, just a few doors down from the hotel. We splurged on bistecca florentine (new mystery – in the United States, why is florentine associated with spinach?). It was a giant T-bone served with roast potatoes for two. We also discovered the Joshua Tree Pub – a very fun spot on the Via Della Scala. 

The next day was Halloween. J picked up breakfast at a little snack bar, and then we made our way to the Academie. We had ordered tickets weeks ago on line. The lines were crazy. We had to pick up the tickets at an actual ticket office, and then stand in yet another line for our noon entrance time.

The David was everything I thought it would be, especially his eyes. The collection at the Academie is generally amazing – Michelangelo’s Prisoner series, unfinished, where you could see and sense the marble being formed into figures.

After imbibing massive amounts of art, we walked through various piazzas – the Republica and the Signore, right by the Ponte Vecchio, and enjoyed window shopping in the high end shops. We had a fairly expensive lunch, but it was right on one of the squares and I convinced J to have anchovies on our pizza Napoli. 

After fortification, we did Rick Steves’ Renaissance walk, which took us to the outside of the Duomo and campanile, as a well as the octagonal Baptistry with its special ornate doors. Apparently the facade of the actual duomo is of recent origin and the green and white marble does in fact look newer.

From there we walked to the church (Orsanmichele), adorned with statues in the exterior niches, the Palazzo Vecchione (City Hall, not the bridge), with its paintings of Austrian landscapes above the arches. I guess everyone had to leave their mark on Florence.

We passed by the various outdoor sculptures, including the Rape of the Sabine Women (question whether this would even be allowed in Florida), and finished at the Ponte Vecchio (the bridge). 

By then it was getting quite chilly and windy and we headed back to the hotel. We liked the restaurant so much from the night before we went there for a second time, and to celebrate Halloween stopped by the Joshua Tree again. Patrons were in costume, the wait staff was enjoying a Chinese food feast, the Addams Family tv show was playing in the background, dry ice was occasionally released, and a good time was had by all.  

Making It To Milan

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Star Date – October 25, 2023 – in this alternate universe I’m writing about months later. (Well, it is based on a contemporaneous travel diary.) And to make it even more surreal I’m actually typing this into my phone en route from Morocco to Orlando – which shall be the subject of another post entirely. And, it’s finally getting published months after that, but these are mysteries of time and space into which I shall not delve.

But back to the “present.” We arose early and niece F drove us to the Gare Nice Ville. Although our train tickets to Milan, supposedly safely housed on our phones, didn’t scan, we managed to find an “assistance booth” that let us through the turnstile (with lots of shouting on both ends of the intercom as we tried to communicate). The train was extremely crowded until we reached Monaco, where practically everyone got off. The train passes along a spectacular coastline, although we did spend much of the time worrying about missing our change of trains in Ventimiglia. But when we arrived, the Milan train was right there waiting for us, we were able to locate our carriage and seats, and it continued by the coast and through numerous tunnels until we reached Milan.

The Courtyard of the AirBnb

We arrived at Milano Centrale – the station was built in 1931 by the Fascist government. It’s huge and imposing and designed to make the individual recognize his or her own insignificance when faced with the grandiose power of the state…we found the metro and exited at the Missori stop. There’s a complicated roundabout and we circumnavigated it a few times before we figured out exactly where we should be going.

We managed to make our way to the corner of the street where our Airbnb was located – there we met up with possibly the most unusual Airbnb proprietor and Airbnb of any of our European travels. Let’s just say a five star rating was paramount for him. The location was unbelievable. We were just off one of the main streets and very close to the Duomo.  You enter through a huge gate/door which leads to a quite beautiful courtyard. Parts of the building are allegedly built in the 15th century by Donato Bramante (and I have no reason to doubt that) but certainly there are lots of additions. The building itself is a mix of apartments and commercial ventures, including goldsmiths, one of which was located right by our studio apartment. You could hear human noise from the other apartments but absolutely no sounds from the street.

The place itself was genuinely weird. The shower was on the same level as the bathroom floor so toilet paper had to be removed before turning it on. A bit like a primitive camper. There was a tiny cooking area and there was no way I would have risked lighting the gas stove. The furniture was very old (or antique, however you want to describe it), and clocks with time zones from around the world adorned the walls. 

After we had settled in, we walked to the Duomo. It is magnificent- over the top Gothic architecture- but it is self funded and according to our tour guide, not supported by the Vatican. To raise money they project ads on the backside of the building itself. It’s a bit disconcerting. We also strolled through the 19th century galleria – anchored by a huge crystal dome and home to the original Prada. 

We had negronis at a cafe by the Duomo and then decided to try Rossini’s, the restaurant right next to the Airbnb, which turned out to be quite good. I had a very unusual beet risotto with cheese and cherry juice – J stuck with spaghetti with clams. And, our Airbnb host, good to his word, said we would get a discount and we did. 

The next day we’d arranged for a city tour, on the theory we only had one full day in Milan. Of course, this entailed another trip back to the Duomo, but this time we actually went inside. It’s built from pink/beige marble that has been beautifully cleaned and was 600 years in the making. In the ceiling, there’s supposedly a relic from the cross of the crucifixion and each year the Archbishop of Milan ascends in a cloud type contraption to the roof, presumably to visit it. Interestingly, Milan itself dates back to the Celts (at least according to the proprietor of our AirBnB).

The walking tour continued on to the Castle, which has been both a residence and military enclave. Security was extremely high.

Our final stop was the friary where DaVinci’s Last Supper resides in what was the refectory. You pass through an airlock chamber to view it and only a few people are allowed in at a time. It is remarkable. The table is a continuation of the room and places you in the scene in a three dimensional way that I had heard about but never experienced. And the 20 year restoration that started in 1999 brings the color and realism to life.

After the tour ended, we walked through the very nice Brera area and past La Scala – where unfortunately there was no performance (tickets were unbelievably expensive anyway) and the museum was closed. But we found a nice local lunch place , not far from the famous “finger” sculpture and then I indulged all my cheap shopping desires at an enormous Primark.

After a brief rest, we walked to the Navigli area, the location of the last canals in Milan – it used to have many. Google maps took us through a not very safe looking way (empty dark parks, etc) so we found an alternate route back. But what a scene in the Navigli. Restaurants and bars everywhere offering all you can ear aperitivo – apparently Milan invented happy hour. Despite this, we found a relatively sedate restaurant where I had a traditional Milanese risotto (Arborio rice, saffron and cheese) and good wine from the Piedmont. I had to buy a cheap and not good umbrella from a street vendor since it was raining and mine was somewhere in France. J managed to find a craft beer place on the way back which ameliorated some of the rain.

Next day we packed up and I made a final Primark run for 6 euro wool berets. Perfect for Florida! Made our way to the train station where we had to wait a long time for our platform to be announced. Crazy Wi-Fi – it’s free but you can’t get the required code unless you already have internet!

Next stop – Venice.

Diamonds are Forever and A Niece in Nice

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Despite the fact I’m half English, we seem to have a lot of friends and family in France. I haven’t even mentioned that our AirBnb in Paris was very close to where T’s parents have an apartment. Then we saw K in Orleans. And the next part of our French adventure involved a visit to our niece, who conveniently lives just outside Nice.

After a brisk walk to the train station in Orleans where we caught the tram to the bus stop, we took a Flix bus to the Orly Airport in Paris. The Flixbus was a double decker, and unfortunately our seats, which we had reserved, were on the top level, and I could definitely feel it sway back and forth. We traveled back through flat agricultural fields straight to the L’Aeroport d’Orly. This is very much the domestic and non-glitzy airport, in contrast to Charles de Gaulle. We had a long wait, but a short flight to Nice, where our niece, F, met us at the airport.

We drove through winding wooded roads up to Chateauneuf de Grasse, where her apartment has a beautiful view of the Mediterranean and lots of olive trees. We had dinner at a local restaurant in Valbonne.

We slept late the next day and then drove into Nice. Despite the fact it was Monday, parking was very hard to come by but it did mean we got to see a lot of Nice in our quest for a place to park. We finally found a spot on a street where two gentil hommes sitting outside a bar helped F into a very tight parking place. Nice is filled with lots of old, orange apartment buildings (bourgeois buildings), and the promenade by the ocean sends one back decades in time. We visited a very old Baroque church (whose name I cannot locate anywhere), with lots of chapels dedicated to multiple saints, each of whom had a special prayer just for them. Lunch at an outdoor cafe, where I managed to make an international call and reach the vet to deal with the Kira and what to do with a dead cat issue. Yes, even on sabbatical these everyday issues do surface.

We wandered around Nice a bit more, and then drove to Villefranche to meet F’s friend at her friend’s father’s house. It was located in a gated community up on the cliffs with an amazing view. Her father spoke no English but he spoke French slowly so I was able to pick up at least some of the conversation. After coffee and biscuits, we drove even higher up the mountain, where we could see where much of the James Bond Never Say Never movie was filmed, as well as Tina Turner’s home. Quite an experience.

We had planned to go to Antibes the next day, despite the unsettled weather. Antibes is much smaller than Nice and has a great parking lot. Parking can be important. The Picasso museum was closed for lunch so we went to a much less ornate Romanesque church – all terracotta colors – poked about shops, and had a Lebanese lunch. We got bored waiting in the very long line for the Picasso museum, so instead walked about the harbor and looked at the huge, super luxury yachts, including one called Faith that, according to the internet, is up for charter.

After a trip to the Carefours market, we helped F prepare for her crepe party, and enjoyed meeting more of her friends. They also had some great suggestions for our upcoming trip to Tuscany.

The next morning we had to depart the south of France. For the first time, we couldn’t get our tickets to scan at the train station, but we did manage somehow to find an assistance booth where some automated function let us on. I’m still not sure how we managed it.

The train to Milan, our next stop, ran right along the Mediterranean. It was super crowded until Monaco, where everyone got off, presumably to go gamble. We ourselves disembarked at Ventimiglia, where our next train was waiting for us. Time for Italy, starting in Milan.

Friends in France – A Visit to Orleans

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All good things must come to an end, but our Paris visit definitely did so too soon. Nonetheless, we enjoyed le petit dejuner at Le Weekend (by the way, cafe crème is cafe au lait, and like London, all coffee is expensive). Walked to the St. Placide metro to the Austerlitz Gare, where we had quite a wait for our train. It’s not a great station, very low ceilings and not many amenities, but it was easy to find our train.

We reached Orleans in just over an hour, traveling through flat, agricultural countryside. Our long time family friend K met us at the station, and we made the brisk, 15 minute walk to her house, which is near the center of town. Her home was built around 1911, and has a huge yard, dominated by an ancient linden tree, and is filled with interesting items ranging from her days as a glass blower to antique furniture from her family to souvenirs of her days in Nepal, Senegal, and India.

Orleans is charming and quite lively. Very uniform, cream colored buildings line the straight boulevard that starts at the Cathedral, but other areas are filled with half timbered medieval structures, recently restored. The outdoor market was incredible – cheese, sausage, vegetables, seafood. K bought four different sorts of oysters for the next day.

We walked down to the Loire, but by then it was pouring (hence, a shortage of photos….). K cooked mussels in white wine for dinner, accompanied by a salad of mache and mushrooms.

The next day we awoke to a message from our house sitter that our cat, Kira, had passed away. While it wasn’t a total surprise, it was sad and K popped open a champagne bottle in her honor at breakfast (well, it was more like brunch time).

We took another walk to explore more parts of Orleans, and after the weather turned cold, we feasted on oysters (sizes 2, 3, and 4 from Brittany, Normandy, and Cler [?]), accompanied by radishes dipped in salt and bread and butter. Watching K shuck them was poetry in motion. (Besides being an artist, K is also a gourmet chef.)

After recovering from eating three dozen oysters between three people, we walked back into town. It was a Saturday night and a lively scene despite the rain. We eventually stopped at a Brittany creperie for galettes – crepes made from buckwheat. They are thicker than what we think of as a crepe in America, and folded at the corners to create a square. A Galette Complet includes a fried egg, jambon (ham), and Swiss cheese.

There’s nothing like a visit with friends in France.