Post from Italy, Part 2: The Cinque Terre

Breakfast with a view, Vernazza

The five towns known as the Cinque Terre are linked by challenging hiking trails, an enticement for travels with my daughter, who loves nature as I do. Now, finally, we were arriving in Vernazza. High speed trains link Monterosso al Mare, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore, each painted in the pastel pinks and salmons, yellows and baby blues and pale greens decreed as the tints of this picturesque piece of Italy.  Sunlight shimmered on the Ligurian Sea, eliciting a collective gasp as the sight of sparkling water came into view of our train for the first time.  

The belvedere, Corniglia

Corniglia kitty

Our first "hike" was the 15-minute climb up rough stone stairs to our apartment high above the coastal town, with the sound of the waves always present.  From our private terrace, we could see the entire town of Vernazza like a watercolor painting of a dream.  Our first dinner was eaten just down the hill at La Torre, where a sign proclaims: 
"But not in many places you can try the experience of being in a postcard.  If you are in a hurry, you're not allowed here."

We watched a spectacular sunset over the sea while savoring the regional fare: pasta with pesto and stuffed mussels, paired with the local red wine and Prosecco. 
We were not in a hurry.

We loved Corniglia, on a hillside with its friendly maze of side streets; at the end of one, we found a belvedere “perched between the sea and sky” (Rick Steves), an apt description that didn’t convey the bliss of having it all to ourselves, except for the resident cat who befriended us.                                                                                                                          

Antipasto di Mare

We spent one sunny morning on the beach in Monterosso, which seems to get most of the morning sun in winter. We tried the local specialty, Antipasto di Mare: six small plates of the fresh local catch.  Our selection included smoked swordfish, sliced translucently thin; anchovies marinated two different ways; meaty, flavorful octopus; pickled mussels; and the local cod, cooked and served with olive oil, lemon and capers, all regional products.

Sunny Monterosso

Monterosso morning

Prone to landslides and erosion, I had heard that the Cinque Terre trails are sometimes closed to hikers, but I was disappointed to learn that all the main trails along the coastline were off limits during our visit.  Nevertheless, a tip from a shop owner in 

Hiking from Corniglia to Manarola

Corniglia sent us higher into the hills to a trail that was accessible, though by no means easy.  Sometimes marked with a red and white stripe, other times leading through someone's (fabulous) backyard, or threading a narrow path above someone working in the terraced grapevines, the trail led in and out of forests, offering astonishing views of the cliffs and the towns and the dazzling sea.

After three hours of strenuous climbing and descending and climbing again, we found ourselves confused: we were hiking to Manarola, but the trail forked and led in three different directions.  At that moment, with sunset approaching, a couple came hiking toward us, and we asked them the way to Manarola.  After trying to explain in Italian, they suddenly said they were going there, and we should follow.

Our stylish Italian guides

He was dressed for walking, but she! - Wearing shiny black boots with chunky heels, tights and a short skirt, a fashionable shawl draped diagonally across her shoulders, she was carrying a leather purse in one hand.  Her blonde hair was perfectly coiffed.  She seemed to have no trouble with the rocky, irregular trail.  

We followed them for another half hour.  Our new friends looked back regularly to make sure we were keeping up (we weren't), until we arrived at their destination - a cliffside osteria with the perfect sunset view, perched above the postcard town of Manarola.  The sun set flaming pink and orange on the watery horizon as we enjoyed the Italian version of hot wine in the twilight.

Manarola at twilight

This is how the locals roll on a Sunday evening in the Cinque Terre.  How lucky for us that they showed us the way.

Post From Italy, Part 1: Siena

If I could realistically escape modern life, I would do it in Siena.

Walking into the heart of Siena

The ancient stone walls of the old Tuscan city enclose narrow, picturesque streets that meander, seemingly randomly, inviting exploration.  The heart of the city is Il Campo, the public square, scene of the crazy horse race known as the Palio in summer.  On our winter visit, people had gathered to enjoy the January sun, the delightful trattorias serving tagliatelle with wild boar ragu and Caprese salad, and the Fonte Gaia (fountain of joy), where pigeons perched on carved figures, sipping from this 600-year-old place of refreshment.  

Yes, there are plenty of tourists and shops catering to them, but it feels SO much smaller and easier to navigate than the big cities of our previous stops.  And there are incredible sights to be seen:  after the 400+ step climb to the top of Torre del Mangia, the second highest bell tower in Italy, the geometric dome and towers of the Duomo to the west, and the tile roofs and Tuscan countryside in every other direction, more than made up for the harrowing climb.  The landscape has a rolling, symmetrical beauty, punctuated by stands of skinny, perpendicular Cypress trees.

View of Il Campo from Torre Mangia

Siena Duomo and Toscana

Siena's main sights can be enjoyed in a couple of days, on foot - what a treat!  We never felt rushed as we toured the simple, sweet synagogue and learned of the history of Jews in this part of the world.  We visited the Palazzo Publica (city hall), where the vibrant frescoes rival paintings in Europe's finest museums - and how on earth did they do those ceilings?  We enjoyed another expansive view from the Panorama dal Facciatone, the loggia atop the Museo del Opera.  

Fresco and ceiling in Palazzo Publico (old city hall): "Good Government"

Quietly boasting some jaw-dropping art, Siena's Duomo is a visual feast, with its elaborately decorated, soaring columns, more mind-blowing frescoes, and a basement-level crypt that evokes medieval ages and beliefs.  

Siena Duomo

Frescoes in Siena Duomo

The food of Siena celebrates pasta of all shapes and sizes, served with mushrooms, truffles, and long-cooked sauces.  How surprising to enjoy sweet tomatoes, basil and the most delightful mozzarella in January, while the sun bathed us and we people watched in Il Campo.  We sampled Salsicce con Fagioli (sausage and white beans) and the famous local soup, Ribollita (beans, veg and bread) at a hole-in-the-wall with a handwritten menu and communal tables full of locals.

Love Potion #9, Italian style

We drank Prosecco and Campari and local red wines, and on our last night lucked into front row seats for live music at a crowded trattoria.  The two-man band played jazz and pop while disco lights played around the room, and when they sang "Love Potion #9" in Italian, Emily and I couldn't stop laughing.

Osteria La Chiaccuera

Beyond what this fascinating town offers in present experience and fond memory (I was here when I was barely 20 years old, more than 40 years ago), the people were simply lovely.

Our Airbnb couldn't have been more warm or comforting.  Elena made us feel like family from the moment we arrived.  Breakfast was epic: cured meats, fresh cheeses, a loaf of bread to be sliced and toasted to our preference.   Croissants, cakes, jam and butter, coffee and tea and juice, yogurt and cereal.  A cat named Roby.  A warm hug and two kisses as Elena waited on the street with us for our taxi.

Waiting for our taxi with Elena

Bella Siena, arrivederci!

  

Postcard from Paris

What can I say about Paris that hasn't been said by so many others?

Sacre Couer, Montmartre

Unimaginably ancient yet incredibly modern, it's a feast for the eyes: elaborate cathedrals festooned with lunging gargoyles and glittering with stained glass, shop windows sparkling with jewel-like desserts and provocative lingerie, enticing markets stocked with the freshest produce, baskets of oysters, fabulous cheeses, fish and shellfish.  On every corner, you can grab a cup of Vin Chaud, hot spiced wine, to keep you warm and willing to keep walking and ogling Paris.

Organic Market, Raspail

Purely by chance, our lovely apartment was located in Le Marais, the Jewish and gay quarter, and an ideal neighborhood to explore on foot.  We loved Rue de Rosiers, where delis alternate with falafel stands, and the food is both affordable and amazing.  One day we stopped at Sacha Finkelsztajn for a knish and Favorki, twists of fried dough sprinkled with powdered sugar.  On New Year's Eve, we opted for falafel and Israeli sandwiches stuffed to bursting with velvety grilled eggplant, Merguez sausage and fresh vegetables.  Our appetizer was fresh oysters, purchased in front of the neighborhood grocery store and shucked to order, served with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice.  Exquisite!

Museum overload is a definite danger.  There are literally dozens (hundreds?) of world class museums both large and small, for every taste, and you can go crazy trying to fit them all in.  The D'Orsay, housed in an old train station, should not be missed - the glass ceiling allows natural light to bathe the old masters, Renoir and Picasso, Monet and Cezanne, Rodin, Gaugin, Pisarro and Degas.  The Picasso Museum contains more of his works than any other museum in the world, including works you've probably never seen - and with photographs of the artist and the creative displays, you might almost believe that Pablo is right there with you.

Picasso and sculptures

Other highlights: jazz at Le Caveau de la Huchette, a club located in a cave, where couples danced swing to a live band in a crowded, lively space (thank you, Julie and Scott).  Shakespeare and Co., an astonishing bookstore where books are stacked up to the ceiling, and the intimate rooms invite you to explore and linger ... forever.
Rue Cler, where fromageries and cafes and flower stands assault your senses with delight, and where I sipped a hot chocolate that tasted like a liquid truffle (thank you, Chef Tse).

New Year's on the Champs Elysee

New Year's Eve on the Champs Elysee, lined with trees festooned with sparkling red lights and the largest crowd I've ever seen.  On the boulevard, the jostling crowd flowed towards the Arc de Triomphe, where a new age light show colored the iconic monument.  Despite the presence of chanting "yellow vests" and a plethora of police, the party was punctuated by a fantastic fireworks display - and we survived the mass exodus of thousands, escaping to a bar for overpriced wine, but exhilarated and ready to welcome in 2019.

What can I say about Paris that hasn't been said before?
Despite what everyone says, the French were more than friendly and helpful.   And that was the nicest surprise of all.