And now we leave the exquisite city of Albi and begin making our way to Castres, Le Puy, Lyon…and home.
We enjoyed Toulouse so much that I was a little sad when we arrived n Albi Saturday afternoon. It was really hard to part with daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter after a simply terrific week. Our granddaughter was a delight—of course—and always entertaining, son-in-law a master at navigation in addition to being a great guy, having alone time with my daughter as we wandered window-shopping,…now we had to learn again to enjoy a new city, just the two of us.
We checked into the Mercure Albi Rives du Tarn, a lovely big room, a view of the river, and a somewhat corporate upscale place. None of the warm, informal vibes of the Hotel Joke in Paris or the Hotel Albert 1er in Toulouse. (These are unfair comparisons especially since the Hotel Albert may be my favorite hotel of all time.)
Our hotel is across the river nearest to the bridge
So we were a little down until we walked across the river and into the old city…oh so old city..of Albi. It is as lovely as advertised, almost everything built of red brick, ancient houses from the 1400’s, twisty streets and alleys. And again, a plethora of great cafes, restaurants, boulangeries. We were back in a good mood by the end of the afternoon.
Albi really is indescribably beautiful. The Toulouse-Lautrec museum is great! We spent 3-4 hours there and were grateful they close for lunch so we could sit a while and refresh ourselves, then dive back in.
Entrance to museumDress-up for kids because of circus posters in temp exhibitLautrec painted this at age 17Inside and out so beautiful
I did get a feeling that the vibe is not as warm as Paris or Toulouse, but maybe not having our family with us was the cause of that. Still, “Bonjour” and “Merci” worked the same magic. I will miss speaking French!
Lousy for iPhone photos…it is simply too tall.
On our last full day after touring the Cathedral de Sainte Cecille, the largest brick structure in the world (!) we sat down at what we expected to be a routine (albeit very French) lunch at L’esprit Du Moulin. It was right out of a movie. I had a “menu” (fixed price for 3 courses) for €24.50 that had five or six choices for entree (appetizer), plat (main dish) and dessert. It was hard to choose! We decided on no wine. I had soupe de poisson (fish soup), heavenly, and a onglet de veau avec sauce de cepes (veal something, akin to hanger steak, with mushroom sauce). Tarte tatin, usually a miniature apple pie (sort of) seemed doable but was two types of chantilly (whipped creme), a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and the tarte. And a praline cookie. By the time I got to dessert I could barely eat a bite…and the no wine decision was undermined when, after a foursome departed from the next table the waiter, without a word, brought over a huge wine glass and filled it halfway…the remainder of the wine the foursome had left. Delicious and so fun and so French. David had an enormous (truly) beautiful salad with sliced duck gizzards scattered through and some other duck (breast?) pieces, with a small slice of bread topped with foie gras about 1/2 an inch thick, cassoulet, and a similarly overwhelming dessert. We were happy to sit for an hour and a half or so, soaking in the atmosphere and trying to consume this enormous meal.
Our morning of departure to Castres we went back to the wonderful Maison Janin Artisan Boulanger for coffee and croissants. I asked her if they used commercial yeast..of course not, they maintain their own starter. Stupid question!
We drove to Castres, enjoyed the Goya Museum (Spanish artists only, and three Goyas), now looking for supper. Off tomorrow to Le Puy, a long drive through unknown territory!
We left Paris by train, high speed to Bordeaux and then a bit of a crawl to Toulouse. Almost five hours all told, but the five of us were physically and mentally tired and thus it was nice to just sit, each in our own heads. Granddaughter watched her ipad with headphones, Mark read, I wrote about Paris and then veg’d out…the trip went quickly. Toulouse was thankfully the end of the line so we had plenty of time to gather up luggage. We had been worried about the walk to the hotel, fearing Toulouse late afternoon would be hot, but walking on the shady side for 20 minutes was pleasant and eased us into this wonderful, lovely, friendly city. The hotel was on a short street off one of the main streets of the historic center, and we were greeted by the always friendly and helpful staff.
We ate so much each night. Boullion Capitole our first night was so much fun with bustling charming servers and great food that we knew we were going to like this city. Stayed four nights, hated to leave. And to top it off, probably my favorite hotel ever. Comfy rooms, good air conditioning, fabulous breakfast. Hotel Albert 1er, we love you.
Wonderful hotel. That is a part of the breakfast buffet…included fresh squeezed OJ at a do-it-yourself machine and very good coffee.
What’s “All True?” That Toulouse is the easier, less expensive alternative to Paris, as often advertised. The prices were about 20-30% cheaper than Paris. The city is sooo pretty: red brick buildings dominate, streets are clean, walking everywhere was a pleasure, every clerk, wait person…to the woman security guard at the city hall…was smiling, friendly, helpful. Lots of playgrounds made granddaughter extremely happy. One in a plaza otherwise filled with outdoor seating for the surrounding restaurants, one next to the tourist office, one in a large park where the Japanese garden is, one we didn’t have time to find next to the Toulouse Musee. This childtren’s natural history museum enchanted granddaughter—her mother said she had never been so engrossed by minerals, butterflies, taxidermied animals, even the animation of the earth’s landmasses forming and reforming which she watched twice, then as we were getting ready to leave she asked to go back and watch it again, this time wiping a tear and hugging her mom—“the music makes me sad.” Gosh I love them so much.
We were to leave on Saturday. For our last full day we got out of the city by renting a car and driving an hour or so south into the foothills of the Pyrenees to a small town that had a Friday market. David and I had so enjoyed these last time we were in France so I really wanted my daughter to experience one. The only bad part was getting the rental car out of the horrid parking lot in Toulouse!
This town, Foix, is magical and the market was a blast. We arrived around 10, and stayed several hours after the market ended just hanging out enjoying our lunch purchases (the bread! The cheese! The olives!!) and letting granddaughter enjoy the playground smack in the center of town. The scenery is all greenery, flowers, the river, Pyrenees in the distance. A great day.
We returned to Toulouse and ate a magnificent dinner at the Maison du Cassoulet. Yup, we all had cassoulet and a wine suggested by the server which will live in my memory forever.
Only down moment was saying goodbye to daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter. Next morning they left for Spain and we drove to Albi.
It was delightful to be back in Paris, especially because we met our daughter, son-in-law, and almost five year old granddaughter to share the city with. Short version—we ate, we rode the metro, we went sightseeing, we walked, and we ate some more.
I highly recommend our hotel, one of the local chain Astotels. This time we stayed at Hotel Joke, a little higher up in Montmartre than our last visit at Hotel Joyce. Comfortable, welcoming, convenient, snacks out in the afternoon into the evening, big bowls of apples, all part of their services. Our room was huge and had cross ventilation which was great in the pre-air-conditioning month of April.
We were close to several metro stops and we took full advantage of them. Our granddaughter LOVED the metro—the speed thrilled her. On our second day we inadvertently got separated—the doors closed before I could get on, and David was in a different car from the kids—but of course the next train came in a minute, perhaps two minutes, and our cell phones worked fine so we were back together in no time.
This sudden separation made a huge impression on granddaughter, who thereafter was our shepherd, making sure we all got on and off together without incident. She would run back and forth to her grandpapa to tell him how many more stops until we got off, and took his hand to lead him off and on the train. So sweet and so mature of her…and she loved this new responsibility.
Uniquely for us we visited no museums, just wandered and took it all in. I had made dinner reservations for 3 of the nights so we would not have to make decisions and this was a hit. Highly recommended: Au Bord Des Copains in Montmartre, Caboulot in Montmartre, and our last night we said goodbye to Paris with a leisurely and wonderful dinner at Vins Des Pyrenees. Granddaughter ate everything and then some (chewed on the bones from her father’s confit de canard) and was goofily well behaved and polite. Her sweet, soft “bonjour” and “merci” delighted every adult we met.
Now we are en route to Toulouse, way south, on a high speed train. In a few days we will part with our family as they go to the Spanish coast and Barcelona, while David and I spend a quiet weekend in Albi and then meander to Lyon, a night at the airport in Paris, and, alas, home to San Francisco.
Burgers, salads, galettes, madeleines…food in Paris is delightful.A beautiful few days of perfect weather for enjoying the essence of Paris.
When we booked that great and cheap train from Roma to Napoli it came with an option to register for a free walking tour of centro storico (free walking tours entail only a requested tip, usually €10, and our experience with them is very good). It started at 10 on our last day and we weren’t so enthusiastic but it was really worthwhile. We learned about a lot of stuff we could have done in the city if we were there longer than 3 1/2 days. Our guide, born and raised and in love with the city, opened our eyes to more of its charms and of course of its history.
The ancient gate to the city.THE first pizzerria, still operating.
I tried to take photos whenever I especially enjoyed her explanations but there was so much more. For example, she explained that housing in Napoli was dominated by working class “basso” apartments; ground floor one room accommodations that entire families shared. When they wanted more space the only direction available was down, a project often stymied by encountering ancient structures. She showed a photo of a narrow street interrupted by a small amphitheater revealed when the occupants tried to add a basement.
Random excavation in the middle of a piazza.
As we walked deeper into the areas filled with tourists the noise level climbed from loud to very loud, interrupted by clusters of students (college?) yelling and chanting encouragement as a guy paid to have a foaming lemon soda (must be alcoholic) into his open mouth. Ugh. Our guide said she hoped someday it would be outlawed and we agree. In spite of the chaotic situation we pressed on, down tiny narrow commercial streets I could never find again, many selling locally made nativity components. She said the Christmas time holiday used to be December 7 when families brought out their nativity scenes. When you move out of your parent’s home you begin to collect your nativity items, growing and personalizing them year by year. Napolitanos like our guide rue the change to Christmas trees and December 25 celebrations.
Such old things…this in the floor of a church./This church has glass over an old Roman building—mosaics!
After 2+ hours we had finished, and we asked her for a pizza recommendation. She suggested we walk straight up the street to the market area and find Pizzaria Alitto. We did, we loved it, and returned for our last dinner—twice in one day!
Our lunch pizza was the standardNeed basil?Long standing fast food standEvening pizzas were star pies…the points are filled with ricotta
This morning we left, some anxiety about flights and a new airport and security on our minds.
We booked Easyjet. What a lovely airline! And the Naples airport is modern, all in one terminal, organized and plenty of good coffee alternatives. We left on time, there was ample luggage space on board. Officially my favorite airport in the world.
After four hours at the archeological museum we felt a bit over-prepared for our visit to Pompeii. Assuming we’d be well acclimated to Italy, over any jet lag, and sleeping well we had booked a 9am start for a 3 hour tour with a professional archeologist as our guide. This meant getting up quite early, hopping the Metro to Garibaldi Piazza and station, finding the local Circumvesuviana train to Pompeii, and amazingly everything went perfectly. We even made a friend on the train, an American now living in Portugal, in Naples for a conference and winding up her stay with a trip to Pompeii. She now helps people relocate to Europe. I have her card in case, well, you know.
The first two hours of the tour were in a group of about 12; the last hour, to the Villa dei Misteri, a relatively recent excavation outside the walls of Pompeii, was just us and a very nice couple, young men from Mexico who were so totally engaged I asked if they were archeology students. No, just fanatics like us.
Note the little white stones between the paving rocks, which are dark gray. They are pieces of marble which reflected moonlight to help visitors find their wayThe large forum near the main gate; Vesuvius in the background (“Don’t worry, she is sleeping.”)Near the forum, another public space
We have seen a few documentaries about Pompeii and Roman history in general, so I wondered how much we would still have to learn and enjoy. Answer: A LOT! As I looked over the photos when we returned to Napoli I was again overwhelmed and incredibly happy we went there. It is transformative to walk on the same volcanic rock streets that the Romans walked, gaze at the same frescoes, examine the same mosaics, wander through houses that we now know so much about thanks to the archeologists…Just a wow experience in every way.
The excavation of Pompeii began in the 1740’s on the order of the regional king but excavation by an archeologist wasn’t begun until 1910; our guide rued what had been haphazard and destructive up to then. Our guide showed us where she had most recently been working—the cemetery outside the city walls. The specific spot she showed us was unremarkable, just grass and wildflowers, a reminder that every bit of this part of Italy especially still hides multiple eras underground. Unimaginable.
Many layers of construction—stones covered by bricksA temple with two stories of columns still standingThe criss-cross on the wall means it was built by Romans, not prior occupants
What was most remarkable to me is how much archeologists know about the life in Pompeii. An example is the identification of political life and even which houses politicians/officials lived in. If there’s a bench outside next to the entrance, it was there for clients of the official to sit waiting for an appointment. The purchase of votes was legal, so officials and aspiring officials provided favors or services in return for the client’s support. A particular house we were able to walk through (usually closed to the public but open occasionally to protect the interior frescoes) has what looks like a bench in front (a large rectangular stone) but archeologists know it was part of a street repair that had been moved out of the way. Speaking of which, the eruption was in 79AD, following a severe earthquake in 62AD. Repairs from the significant earthquake damage were still underway when Vesuvius erupted. Think of the wrangling over repairs and expenses, then boom.
We even saw a replanted garden in the center atrium of a house that our guide said was exactly the original garden…they analyzed the remains of the roots and were able to identify the shrubs.
Tried to take it all in! It was so lovely and strange and somewhat sadThe barriers at the end of the street (like we use now) to keep carts and animals out of the forum which was a marketplace so animals not welcomeEntry to a large house. Every house had the same plan, smaller or bigger depending on the wealth of the family
It is believed the city had 20,000 people, but remains of only 9,000 are evident because the wealthy had a little time to get out. The terrifying last day/hours are difficult to imagine; death was by suffocation which took about 15 minutes. Some of the wealthy likely fled to Herculaneum, which was also destroyed but a day or two later. Also, the “bodies” you’ve probably seen are plaster casts; when a cavity was found that was suspected to have been left by human remains, plaster was poured in to reveal the outlines of the remains.
A bakery—oven in the rear, flour grinding stones along the leftBeware of dog mosaic at the entrance to a large homeJust a beautiful street.A huge cemetery plot for a celebrated woman paid for by the city.Frescoes still extant in the Villa dei MisteriA small section of a fresco that surrounds the room illustrating the woman of the house as a bride; vivid and gorgeous
Everything we saw was the result of excavation and some shoring up of dangerous walls except the large amphitheater. It has been rebuilt because events are held there, such as Madonna’s recent birthday concert. Excavation continues, probably forever as our guide said, “we archeologists are very slow.” Thankful for that.
The symbol on the stone in the center points to a brothel. Many visitors (sailors and traders) didn’t speak LatinFountains place around the city—some sponsored by wealthy (noted on the fountain!)Fresco over the doorway of a prostitute’s room advertising what she offers.
After the long and frankly tiring tour, physically and mentally, we walked back into the town of Pompei for a perfect lunch (antipasto della casa) and a walk back to the train station.
The train back to Garibaldi was late and packed, but the windows were open and the air was breezy. Everyone around was friendly, lots of impromptu conversations. Then the train began to slow, many stops skipped, then we stopped. This is a very old train more like an ancient metro than a train—no announcements, no displays of stops upcoming (you had to read the station sign…if possible… to see where you were). We were now stopped 4 stations from Garibaldi. Finally the doors opened. No information was forthcoming. A few people stepped off in search of updates—the train was broken, would take a few hours to fix. No buses, no alternate routes on google; everyone had a phone out looking for solutions. We got off the train and walked up to street level.
In spite of David’s chronic aversion to paying “extra” for a taxi I opened the Freenow app (Lyft in Europe) and watched the repeated “Looking for a driver; high demand” flash by over and over. We began to despair. A woman with whom I had strategized on the train came over to ask what app I was using—she had Bolt and it was not working. Chantelle is from Malta, on vacation before starting a new job; we shared the ride that finally came and Chantelle and I talked and exchanged information all the way back to Garibaldi. She even had a restaurant suggestion for Toulouse!
We still had time to lie down for a bit before our dinner reservation at la Taverna a Santa Chiara, which was so good. A tiny place where we watched the owners turn away walk-ins with “Maybe after 9?” We ate cheese and bread and shared an order of the local pasta and potatoes (see picture) which I must make at home it was so yummy. We walked back to Gioia Toledo and collapsed. What a day.
Wish we had had a map of the cheeses; they were all deliciousOh, this pasta was incredibly deliciousEn route back to our roomLots of people out as usual in Italy (and France and Spain…)
We had online tickets for 10 when it opens…and we staggered out 4 hours later having seen most everything except the Egyptian section. Wow, what a place. Rooms and rooms of massive marble and bronze statues, rooms and rooms of frescos and household items from Pompeii, and a small but fabulous mosaic collection. I have come to love mosaics most of all. We almost missed that particular section because it is on a half-level we only saw as we walked up the multi-level marble stairs.
Words will fail me, so I defer to a few of our photos.
Artifacts from Pompeii were stunning.
The mosaics, ah.
I love the use of tiny stones for the cocks and larger for the border May I have this as a jigsaw puzzle, please?The fresco of this same scene was hung just above this amazing piece, and was not nearly so vivid and aliveThis was fifteen feet (?) long…impossible for an iPhone camera to convey. Struck us as very modern in design.
First, everyone from the tour guides to the taxi driver loathe Trump.
Second, last night as we paid for our last pizza the tv above the cashier suddenly started playing Jesus Christ Superstar. We looked up at a montage of Trump…as Jesus, with Meloni, shaking hands with the Door Dash Grandma, etc. The woman at the register quickly said “Anti, anti!” to make sure I wouldn’t misunderstand the message.
That’s all for the moment. We await our flight to Paris. Much more to come re Napoli.
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.
Fried anchovies, so freshNever had fried calamari like this!Pasta with seafood as good as it looks. The pasta is specific to Napoli, like a super thick soaghettiSpaghetti con vongole…even after exchanging plates we couldn’t finish.
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 thisThe Tiber riverA lovely walk to end our Rome stayWherever we were there was a view of monumentsIn the Ghetto, a tribute to Jewish lives lost in WWIIIn the Ghetto looking back on the Portico d’Ottavia
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.
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.
Yes, it was yummy.Fried artichoke—deliciousPolpetto with pasta (spaghetti with meatballs)Italian breakfast—coffee and pastryPanini that WAS good at AV in centro historico—“vegeteriana 1” but SO big I could eat about 1/2.
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.
The forum, en route to our tourThe sound of road construction is “chink chink” as they tap pavers into placeColiseum exteriorWe had been to the large coliseum in Nimes…dwarfed by RomePalatine HillView from Palatine HillPalatine HillA section of the forum—ancient Rome’s shopping center
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.
Inescapably Rational 