Day One, Naples

Posted on April 15, 2026 by Catherine

We arrived in Naples via il treno from Rome Sunday afternoon. Thank goodness we had booked a taxi to get to Roma Termini, because there was a marathon underway and all the buses were delayed, rerouted, etc. The driver told us there is a marathon about once a month. That would have been nerve-wracking!

The train was a low-cost local, the ride was two hours, and it was extremely comfortable. We bought sandwiches in the terminal and the table between our seats was ample. And because we had booked ahead, the fare was about $10/each. All good!!

I do not recommend arriving in Naples on a Sunday without a clear understanding of the transportation system, as, unusually, google maps gave us terrible directions. The first and seemingly simplest was to take the bus. We wandered a bit, had to ask a few people, but found the bus stop. In Rome you pay for buses and trams with a credit card and just ping the device on board. Faulty assumption that Naples would be the same. I asked a woman how to pay for the bus, and after a spirited discussion among the group waiting, the answer was to buy a ticket first—not available on board. Where? Any tabacchi, small stands that are everywhere selling cigarettes and sundries. Open on Sunday in the surroundings of the Garibaldi station? Nope. Second option in google maps—the metro (subway). Directions were to go to MET, walk 8 minutes to Line 2, ride to another stop, transfer to Line 1, get off at Toledo. I asked 3 or 4 people in the station what/where is MET. No one knew. We looked around for a ticket machine, found one, it refused to take any of our cards, and a nice young man (from Brazil, spoke a little English and Spanish, thank goodness) helped us get our tickets. We were hot and tired and relieved that we were on our way at last. We walked around a corner where a transit guard was checking people going through—helping as necessary. I showed him the directions on google. Yes, yes, he said, Line 2, go one stop to Museo, change to Toledo. Great, sounds easy. Alas this wasn’t true—there are only two metro lines in Naples and we were already on Line 1…and we had to ride only a few stops before we saw “Toledo” coming up. Get off here? I asked the two tattooed twenty sometimes sitting next to us. They advised yes, get off. So we did. After two very long escalators (think Dupont Circle in D.C.) and two staircases, we trudged out onto the street and found the Toledo stop is literally in front of the alley where the door to our B&B is. So much running around and fuss for such a simple trip.

Note: the metro is so very deep because of all the buried Greek and Roman streets, requiring public works to keep digging past all of that ancient stuff.

Our B&B is fine…pretty modern, slightly off kilter as Italian places seem to be (loose screws on towel bars, that sort of thing), and I had the instructions to get in. A code at the front door, an elevator that operates only with a €20 coin and is so tiny the two of us with luggage were squeezed into a comical contortion, go to floor 4…elevator labors up and stops on 3. We were rather desperate to get out so did, and yup, we were on floor 4. (We should have known this…ground floors in Europe are floor 0.). A 7 digit code to open the door and everything we needed was on the desk inside. Big room! Good air conditioning! Comfy bed!

We are staying in the recommended Spanish Quarter, the old part of the city, on Via Toledo, a major commercial street that is a pretty constant roar of traffic and motorcycles, honking and beeping as pedestrians weave through intersections while motorcycles and cars weave around them. It is semi-organized bedlam. The sidewalks are especially uneven as are the streets, so walking you must look down and around you at the same time. It’s rather exciting once you get the hang of it. We saw no crashes, no fallen pedestrians, so it all seems to work. Courage required, however.

Our room has a balcony looking out on Via Toledo

We had no dinner plan so just wandered the streets behind our B&B, getting hungrier and a little confused. We let ourselves be hawked into one of the gazillion restaurants (it had pretty good reviews) and collapsed at a table on the street and ordered wine and alici fritti and calamari fritti. Delicious. Then, too tired to go looking further for a proper dinner, and a bit, uh, relaxed, we ordered pasta. It was all so good…and we toddled back to our rooms to collapse.

A Lazy Day

Posted on April 12, 2026 by Catherine

When Orvieto was not possible we had a free day Saturday and it turned out a lovely, and, compared to our normal pace when traveling, a relaxing day.

We dawdled over breakfast at Geselda’s, wandered back to the room, and decided to have a long indulgent lunch. Our host had suggested Dal Cordaro if we wanted an osteria, and when I checked for a dinner reservation they only took them 15 days ahead. We decided to try our luck walking in when they opened for lunch. We were the second customers and were seated right away. The atmosphere was somewhat cold and brusque and we were a bit uncomfortable until we were about halfway through ordering when the waiter suggested they had a special salad not on the menu…he was struggling to find the right word when one of the owners came by and said “cabbage.” Yes, he said, with olive oil and anchovies. We were game. We have learned dishes with just a few ingredients in Italy are very often delicious. It was. But everything was fabulous…with the antipasti’s cannellini beans, polpetto, and artichoke were beyond expectations. It was a meal to remember. As we left the man at the cashier asked if we enjoyed the food and I stopped to talk a bit. We are from California, we are so sorry about our insane president, the very typical conversation these days with Europeans. “We do not understand how he was elected again” he said to me. Yeah, we don’t either. He reached over and shook my hand. “Good luck to you!” And to all of us.

If only I could make cannellini beans like this

One reason we wanted to try Dal Cordaro is it is steps from a bridge over the Tiber, very picturesque, and we took the long walk along the river back toward the Coliseum, and finishing with a wander through the Ghetto. Really lovely on a Saturday afternoon, not crowded at all. Suddenly we were back in familiar territory and hopped on the #8 tram back to our room.

Saturday Night Madness

We had one last meal in Rome and we couldn’t decide what to do. I wanted to try Eggs, a super modern slightly strange “all about eggs” place where you can get a course in which every dish is served in a half eggshell, yes, in a cardboard carton, but David thought it would be too weird. So instead we decided to walk through the restaurant district of Trastevere and discovered why you might hate this neighborhood. We had wandered into this area and it is where we ate several times. It was a little crowded but fun and eclectic. Saturday night is an entirely different experience.

It was not yet dark, 6:30 or so, and it was absolutely jammed with tourists and partying teenagers, little kids running around the piazzas, motorcycles…insane. We had not selected a destination so kept pushing through, hoping something would appeal. There was one sort of odd suggestion from our host that we were iffy about, a tiny place Maritozzi. This is the name of a slightly sweet bun typically served in the morning filled with whipped cream. Reviews were mostly raves with scattered hates, intriguing. The place is so small that reservations are a must but we wanted to see if we could walk in since it was still early, and the location was deep in this insane neighborhood so it gave us a destination. When we arrived there were only a few people there—it filled up quickly—and we were offered a perch (this place is really small) if we would be ready to leave in an hour since it was reserved at 8. Sure!

The menu thankfully had guidelines—order two small maritozzi and one main. The maritozzi are filled with savory things so we chose beef tartare and smoked salmon, and gnocchi for David and cacio e pepe for me. The quality of everything is very high, the tiny open kitchen a whirlwind of activity, and they have even been given “best carbonara in Rome” award from somewhere or other. They make their own pasta and offer pasta workshops which I wish I had known about. For me, though, the slightly sweet bread filled with savory food was not my favorite (yup, too sweet) and the pasta was for me too heavily sauced. But the experience was a lot of fun, all the diners seemed in celebratory mode. I guessed the place was all foodies, chefs, etc. Glad we went, wouldn’t return. Best if all it was down a narrow alley out of the fray.

The walk back through the crowds was okay, we never felt in any danger, but again not our scene. Arrivederci to the Rome food world!

Overall we would recommend staying in Trastevere over more central neighborhoods as it was, during the week, pleasant and extremely convenient. The tram stop was literally in front of where we stayed and it ran right to Piazza Venezia, from which we walked to the Borghese and the Coliseum. So convenient and when we returned “home” it was almost an escape from the Rome of crowds.

Glorious and Hideous Ancient Rome

Posted on April 11, 2026 by Catherine

We started our day with pastry and coffee, as usual in Europe. Our B&B delivers breakfast via a coupon for a hot drink and a croissant at a nearby bakery/cafe, a nice morning routine that gets you up and moving. We tend to find a “regular” bakery with coffee whenever we are staying somewhere for more than 2 days so this fit perfectly for us. Perfetto.

We knew Thursday would be tiring, even grueling, as we had booked a 3 hour tour of the Coliseum, Palatine Hill, and the Forum. In retrospect we should have conserved our energy before the 2pm start; instead we walked the mile uphill and back to the main train station in order to, we hoped, get tickets to Orvieto. We have been there before, and really loved it, and a day trip seemed perfect for our free day (free meaning no tours booked) Saturday. David and I had each spent an hour or two online trying to buy tickets but nothing seemed to work. In theory Orvieto is an hour and fifteen minutes away, touted as the best day trip from Rome. However, every train was at least two hours and we couldn’t find a feasible return booking at all. Well, surely the humans at Roma Termini would be able to help us. Alas, it was not to be…she found us an outbound that was two hours long, but the only, the ONLY return was to leave an hour after we arrived and would take two changes and 9 hours. What? “Construction,” she explained.

We walked next door to the Mercado Centrale, a pretty cool, modern food hall where I was happy to find I could get a “trapizzino,” a new fast food that is genius—foccacia cut into triangle, slit, into which you can have various traditional Italian foods such as eggplant parmigiano, chicken, and, what I chose, lingua in salsa verde. Delicious and, for once, not too much food. Our experiences with panini were disappointing. Way too big, and really not that good. Get a trapizzino if you can find it— 6 euro and perfetto.

Here are some more pictures of food we ate this week.

We finished lunch and walked down, down to the Coliseum. There were mobs of people on an April Friday. We cannot imagine what it is like in high season when it is hot. The tour started at the Coliseum where we spent the first 90 minutes. Our guide, Italian, was at times hard to understand but I appreciated her approach. Basically what went on here was a horror, accepted entertainment of murder, animal cruelty, and mayhem. “Little children attended, sitting on mother’s lap watching people kill each other—in battle, or in response to the emperor’s decision or sometimes the decision of the crowd. Kill him slowly! Kill him quickly!” Horrific and probably contributed to the continuation of a bloodthirsty culture that persisted for hundreds of years.

Next we walked up to the top of Palatine hill. It’s not a long walk but boy were we tired so it felt a slog. But well worth it…a beautiful space with stunning views.

We were saturated with sights and sounds and exhausted by all the walking (totaled 5 miles this day) and almost missed our tram stop at our B&B.

Saturday is yet unplanned—but we will have time to do laundry and chill out a bit before we head to Naples.

First Days in Rome

Posted on April 9, 2026 by Catherine

Several years ago I read a piece about why Americans who live in less populated areas are so afraid of foreigners and so convinced Democratic mayors are inept—these Americans have never spent time in a big city. If you have not experienced the messiness of New York, London, Paris, San Francisco, even little old Oakland, it is scary and crazy from a distance. All big cities are messy, noisy, heterogeneous, confusing.

Wow, Rome covers all of those bases. It is big; it is messy; it is noisy; it is complicated. Also fascinating, exuding history—ancient history—at almost every turn. Yup, we’re having a good time even in our first jet-lagged days.

Random ruins we passed on a walk to the Pantheon.

We chose to stay in Trastevere, a neighborhood known for excellent restaurants and a bit removed from Roma Centro, the historical district. It was a good choice. We are staying at Dulcis in Fundo, a B&B right on the tram line. Our host met us at the tram stop from the train station from the airport (easy to navigate even as tired as we were after 24 hours of travel) and walked us into the building, up the steps, up the ancient (our host called it vintage) elevator, and into our room. Room is large, host Alberto is as friendly and helpful as you could ask for, and the plumbing works.

I had asked Alberto for his walkable restaurant suggestions and we were only a few blocks from all of them. Pizza first night, pasta second night, all delicious.

Peppo al Cosimato in Via Natale Del Grande. As good as they look.

Our second night we went to the famous Tonnarello for pasta. Not only were we seated immediately (they often have a 30 minute wait but we were on the early side) but we were surrounded by happy families, gracious and friendly service and delicious pasta. There are comments on the web re Tonnarello—is it still good? Worth the wait? If you are in Trastevere do not hesitate to go.

Villa Borghese

Our first booked tour was of this private family art museum from the 1600’s. If you have read any of my trip reports you know we love museums and this was spectacular. Much smaller than Musee d’Orsay or the Louvre or the Uffizi, it is overwhelming nonetheless with rooms decorated with frescoes, paintings, finely detailed mosaics (I thought they were paintings until I looked closely) and stunning marble sculpture. We were not so familiar with Bernini and we were wowed over and over. The Rape of Persephone, terrifying…but not as terrifying as Apollo and Daphne, showing her transformation into a laurel tree at the moment Apollo touches her. Those Greek myths are not kind when it comes to forcing young women to submit to the gods who want them. Bernini’s skill at depicting movement turns cold white marble into hot violence.

Our guide was an expert, so articulate in English and so charming to our ears with the beautiful rolling “allora” with which she began each explanation. Every language should have “allora!”

David’s intensity as he prepares to sling the rock to kill Goliath. The face is the sculpter’s.

Tomorrow the Coliseum and Palatine Hill.

Rough Start To A Month In Europe

Posted on April 9, 2026 by Catherine

We would have called ourselves experienced travelers but there are always things to learn.

Even if you have used an airport dozens of times for international travel, be sure to confirm which terminal your flight departs from. We started in the International Terminal at SFO, not knowing that there are now two—at opposite sides of the airport. The only way to get from one to the other is a 30-40 minute walk. Thank goodness we had allowed plenty of time.
Even when your agent and the airline sell you an itinerary with a connection in a foreign airport, double check that it is doable. For example, a 90 minute connection at Heathrow via British Airways sounded reasonable; now we know we would have had only the tiniest chance of making it. “Luckily”our initial flight from SFO was on the ground an extra two hours due to a customer incident so our initial 90 minute connection was not to be and British Airways automatically rebooked us to a later flight to Rome with a 3 hour connection. It took more than 2 hours to get from arrival gate, passport control, security (agonizingly slow even with light traffic), and to find which side of the very large and crowded concourse our gate was…and…
Do not assume the departure gate information is correct. When we arrived at SFO International Terminal our departure gate was posted on the boards as G2. We left from A11. (When we asked about this the answer was “oh, you cannot trust the board.”) And at enormous Heathrow gates are not even posted until 30 minutes before boarding time, probably why we saw so many people literally running down halls looking panicked.
Do not expect new processes to work well. Europe is instituting a new biometric system to track visitors which entails photos and fingerprints. How hard can this be? The Rome Airport is riddled with brand new kiosks and signs instructing foreigners to stop at a kiosk to preregister. Kiosks which were all blocked off until right before passport control. Why quickly became obvious—the kiosks are incredibly slow, so slow that they are difficult to use. Attendants wandered the crowd helping travelers follow the instructions. In the end it was pretty simple, but the learning curve was steep.
Just because there are elevators doesn’t mean they work. Especially when you are hauling baggage.

Enough said. We made it.

Charles de Gaulle Airport…yes, you need 2 hours

Posted on October 29, 2025 by Catherine

OMG. We went to the tax refund station, hauling our bags (which we planned to check—passport control at SFO means no waiting for your bags because you have spent 45 minutes in line before you can get to the baggage carousels). Tax refund process absurdly easy—you scan the bar code on the forms and zip, that’s done. So far so good! The signage to departures and baggage check is rather confusing but we knew it was one floor up and found an elevator. The sign at the elevator read as every other elevator sign in Paris, that it is only for the use of those with impaired mobility. We get in. Doors close. We push the button. Nothing happens. We push again…nothing. Again, again. Now I push the emergency button as we cannot open the doors. The small elevator is getting hot. The emergency person comes on, speaking rapid French. I respond in French that the doors will not open. She tells me the elevator cannot be operated without a badge. I repeat that we are in the elevator and the doors will not open. She thinks we are outside, trying to get in. It gets hotter. After some back and forth she tells me someone is coming. Perhaps 5 minutes later we hear scraping and pushing on the door…and a minute of struggle and the doors open to two security guys.

No, it wasn’t the badge problem, clearly, as one of them asks me twice what happened. “The doors wouldn’t open?” He’s confused, we are also confused, and the other guy was fiddling with the elevator as we left.

From that point we walked a long while on the floor above—this terminal is circular and we almost started over again looking for the United counter. Found it, tagged and checked our bags, and then it was another long and confusing walk (the signage is very poor—I had to ask where security was, something most airports are clear about), a line for security which turned out to be simply boarding pass/passport/facial recognition. Another long walk and we arrived at security where the queue for personal baggage was long and the scanning extremely slow. Bags were being pulled seemingly at random for examination, mine included, but he just wanded it and handed it back. But that was another 10-15 minutes. Then another long walk to the lounge; hung out and had some breakfast, long walk to the gate, another queue, Finally we were on board. As soon as we settled in the flight attendants came to ask us to change seats to accommodate a father and daughter, and we agreed. Attendants couldn’t have been nicer and kept insisting we would be compensated. I did have a request: “Will you help me get on wifi? Couldn’t do it on the way over.” We moved; attendant appeared after take-off and, following MANY confusing steps (“Okay, let’s try it on your phone. Huh. Let’s see if we can get on with your iPad…”) got me onto wifi. These big lovely planes…seems like they could do that part a lot better. I need wifi to write this blog, so that was great and we are on our way home!

P.S., against all expectations getting a Global Entry interview at passport control was incredibly easy and fast. Faster than getting in the passport control line!

Last Day in Paris

Posted on October 29, 2025 by Catherine

Musee de Liberation & our last meal

Last day—and hotel transfer day as we had an early morning flight back to SFO from Charles deGaulle airport. We knew trying to get there on time would be stressful day of, so David had booked a night at the Hilton Express. What a lovely hotel! There is a kind of courtyard area between all the onsite hotels with a teeny green park and very respectable playground which I imagine could be a life saver for families traveling with smaller kids.

Our plan worked just fine. We took an Uber to the hotel right after breakfast, observed rush hour would have been impossible if we weren’t a day early, checked in—our room was ready—and then took the B train back into Paris which dropped us a block away from our last museum, the Musee de Liberation of Paris. Fascinating and sad—this was not the end of the war and the destruction and sheer horror of being occupied by a fascist army was difficult to absorb. Highly recommended if you are able to manage it emotionally.

We got on the Metro and headed to Au Pied Du Cochon for our last big meal in France. It was a fitting end…and my bonus was we were a few doors down from the enormous kitchenware store E. Dehillerin and I actually had a few things I needed. Plus one impulse item, the square bread pan with the slide on lid for making certain breads and other fun foods. We got back on the B train in the midst of rush hour and some train system problems, but after three trains one arrived with “room” and we squeezed in…back to CDG and our last night in the Holiday Inn Express.

Catherine learns to shape baguettes

Posted on October 29, 2025 by Catherine

I have been so looking forward to Monday…even though it’s almost our last day, this was the day for my baking class!! I am a sourdough baker and for special occasions I often make baguettes (have to eat them the day they’re baked so you need enough people to accomplish that). After umpteen youtube videos and cookbooks I have still struggled to shape them–they have a tendency to snap back instead of remaining baguette shaped. So this class was eagerly anticipated–a class on baguettes (mostly) and shaping croissants at a master bakery with a master baker. There were only five of us in the class, and yes, it was wonderful.

This baker is very, intensely opinionated, which was so helpful, and he explained to me that keeping the baguette dough chilled right up to the point you are shaping is the secret. And yes, it works!

While I was in class David took a walk (the class was 2 1/2 hours), during which our cell connection (which the eSim uses) disappeared! All of a sudden we had no google maps or directions, and we were in an unfamiliar neighborhood. However, this was day 9 of our trip and we knew a few things–like a bus that goes to Gare du Nord would connect us with a bus that goes to our hotel. So we hopped on, had a nice ride, and were back to hotel home in 45 minutes (rush hour). We felt so smart! The cell network clicked back on that evening and all was well.

Weekend Bonanza

Posted on October 29, 2025 by Catherine

After eating our fill of seafood at the Marche Couvert des Enfants Rouges, and shopping (in vain, it turned out) for a sweater for our son, we confirmed the site of the Paris No Kings demonstration and headed over.

It was a bit surreal but also fun in the way demonstrations can be–drumming, speakers, jokes, some good signs. We stayed for maybe 45 minutes.

Philip Guston Feast (for Catherine) and a little Picasso (for David)

I had seen a few posters in the metro for a just-opened retrospective of Philip Guston’s (ne Philip Goldstein) paintings at the Picasso museum. Guston is not a favorite of David’s, while I have always found his work compelling and intriguing. I also have read a bit about his life–he was an abstract impressionist, hanging out with Jackson Pollock, etc., but then swerved into more representative work. Boy, did the art world come down on him for the change!

I must quote Wikipedia here–this is so illuminating: “Calling American abstract art ‘a lie’ and ‘a sham,’ he pivoted to making paintings in a dark, figurative style, including satirical drawings of Richard Nixon” during the Vietnam War as well as several paintings of hooded Klansmen,^[4] which Guston explained this way: “They are self-portraits … I perceive myself as being behind the hood … The idea of evil fascinated me … I almost tried to imagine that I was living with the Klan.”^[5] The paintings of Klan figures were set to be part of an international retrospective sponsored by the National Gallery of Art, the Tate Modern, the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, and the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston in 2020, but in late September, the museums jointly postponed the exhibition until 2024, “a time at which we think that the powerful message of social and racial justice that is at the center of Philip Guston’s work can be more clearly interpreted.”^[4][6]

Two thousand artists signed a protest letter. I think the performative left wing needs to take a breath once in a while.

He died a few years ago. The exhibit included a documentary and it was icing on the cake to be able to watch two filmed interviews with him, one at SF MOMA, and hear him talk so vividly about being an artist, how he paints (e.g., one of his paintings he explains to the art critic was an experiment to see “if I could paint like I write, just start on one side and paint to the other”), how he selects colors (many of his paintings have a pink background). I was mesmerized. David tolerated it, and then while I sat on a bench and looked for a place to have dinner he wandered the rest of the museum. There is a small subset of Picasso work that I enjoy, but mostly it’s not for me especially while looking for a place to eat is very much me! Division of labor.

We left in light rain and happily ended up at Comptoir des Archives, which I wrote about elsewhere.

Musee D’Orsay, Musee d’Art Moderne, Georges de La Tour

Posted on October 28, 2025 by Catherine

The Louvre

While we were here the shocking theft occurred and, though we had left the Louvre in the “maybe” column, this cinched things—the museum closed, and the morning of the theft our bus was rerouted to avoid the vicinity. Fortunately we had already selected several other museums to enjoy, and enjoy we did.

Musee d’Orsay

Musee d’Orsay…a train station transformed into a gorgeous, albeit confusing, temple to art—painting, sculpture, art nouveau furniture, and more. The building itself is massive, with some galleries by theme (French Impressionism) and some by donating collector. So you think you have absorbed all you can of French Impressionist painting…until you wander into another part of the building where a private collector’s donation includes even more. A great experience, utterly exhausting.

On the top floor are several lovely views of Montmartre and Sacre Coeur.

I snapped the smallest selection of stunning paintings, including this beautiful portrait by Singer Sargeant (the special exhibit and it was a stunner), two very different Renoirs, and one Van Gogh from his final few months of production. Re the Van Gogh, you can almost feel the manic energy he must have been feeling as he painted faster and faster.

Portrait by Sargeant of Violet Paget, who went by pseudonym Vernon Lee.

Musee Jacquemart-Andre

This stop was a recommendation of a friend and it was different and kind of amazing. A wealthy man, in some decline in health, married a young friend of the family arranged by them so he would be cared for, and they built and filled an enormous, enormous mansion with art. Paintings, sculpture, frescoes—they traveled Europe buying things and when they died willed it to the city. The house and its hodgepodge collection is entertaining, but the real gem was the special exhibit—absolutely magical paintings by Georges de La Tour, whose work was completely forgotten after his death in 1692. He was not rediscovered until 1919, by an art historian who went on to curate Hitler’s (stolen) artwork. They had maybe 30 of his works, some quite large, and they cast a spell in the way he used candlelight to illuminate a scene. He also painted scenes of common people when this wasn’t popular, in addition to his (mostly) religious scenes. It was great, albeit the exhibit was very crowded.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georges_de_La_Tour

Musee d’Art Moderne

Great, great, great! We saw lots of things we liked by artists we had never heard of. Like the d’Orsay, there are exhibits by era and also by private collector/donor. The first big room—a huge room-wrapping mural about the scientists who contributed to the development of electricity—is a stunner.