Two Days in Matera

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

We are sitting at breakfast this morning at a great hotel in the Sassi of Matera, Basilicata, getting ready to leave after two nights here.

Matera was one of the places I really wanted to visit while we were living in Italy. We’ve heard so many good things about it. It’s one of those places where, when you mention you’re thinking of going, someone inevitably says, “Oh my gosh, you HAVE to go!”

But I’ve been hearing that about so many places in Italy that I’ve learned not to go anywhere with particularly high expectations. Matera, though, lived up to the hype.

A Little About Matera

Matera is in Basilicata, the region tucked between Campania, Puglia and Calabria in southern Italy. What makes it so unusual are the Sassi, the ancient neighborhoods built into and around the rock along the side of a ravine.

People have lived in this area for an incredibly long time. There is evidence of human occupation going all the way back to the Paleolithic period, making Matera one of the oldest continuously inhabited settlements in the world. Over thousands of years, people took the natural caves here and expanded them, carving homes, churches, storage areas and cisterns directly into the soft stone. Eventually buildings were constructed in front of and on top of those caves, creating the maze of stone houses, stairways, alleys and terraces that you see today.

The result is hard to describe until you see it. A street can be the roof of the house below it. A doorway may lead into a room carved deep into the hillside. Churches disappear into the rock. Today, those same spaces hold hotels, restaurants, shops, homes and spas. The Sassi and the surrounding rupestrian churches have been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1993.

But Matera’s history isn’t entirely romantic. By the first half of the 20th century, many families in the Sassi were living in terrible conditions, often sharing their cave homes with livestock and without adequate sanitation or running water. In 1952, the Italian government passed legislation to relocate residents into newly built housing, and much of the Sassi was emptied during the 1950s. The ancient neighborhoods sat largely abandoned for decades before restoration efforts began bringing people back in the 1980s.

Today, the Sassi feel almost like a giant open-air museum that has come back to life. You can wander for hours through the old streets, but this isn’t a reconstructed historical attraction. You are walking through the actual caves, homes and passageways people used for centuries.

And you really can’t drive around the old part of the town. Access to the historic center is restricted, and even if you were allowed to drive here, I can’t imagine navigate these tiny stone streets in a car.

Arriving at the Busiest Time of the Year

We booked this trip about two and a half months ago, deciding Matera would make a great two-night stop on our way to see my family in Calabria. It wasn’t that far out of our way, so why not?

I was a little shocked — though I probably shouldn’t have been — by how difficult it was to find a place to stay both here and in Calabria. Then we remembered/learned when we were going: Ferragosto.

Ferragosto is officially August 15, the Feast of the Assumption and a national holiday in Italy, but the word also describes something much bigger culturally. August, and especially the weeks around Ferragosto, is when huge numbers of Italians take their summer vacations. Cities get quieter, businesses close, and people head to the beaches, mountains and holiday towns with their families. The stories about Italy shutting down in August aren’t exaggerated. So yes, of course hotels were booked!

The only hotel we could find in Matera that would also take a dog Koji’s size was the five-star Vetera Matera. Vetera is part of Gruppo Bellevue and is also a member of Relais & Châteaux, a collection of independent luxury hotels and restaurants around the world. We stayed at another Relais & Châteaux property in Norcia a couple of months ago and I fell in love.

I fear these experiences may have ruined me. Five-star hotels are very nice. Who knew?

Vetera itself fits perfectly into Matera because much of the property is incorporated into the old stone buildings and caves of the Sassi. Even the spa is carved into the rock.

The Drive South

We left our home in Tuscany around 6 a.m. Monday and drove south, making two stops along the way. We’ve come to love the Autogrill stops on Italian highways. The coffee is reliably good, and we really like the pastries and meals they serve.

With the August crowds I just described, the first Autogrill was out of our beloved Nutella cornetti — basically croissants stuffed with Nutella. Instead (poor us) we had to settle for pain au chocolat with our doppio macchiato. Holy cow, I love those stinking things too and am now fantasizing and hoping that there is an Autogrill on the way from here to Crotone today.

I griped early on about Italian coffee culture and the tiny sip of espresso. I still cannot embrace this tradition first thing in the morning. I need a big ol’ American cup of coffee. But I’ve come to really enjoy and sometimes (sometimes) look forward to an afternoon macchiato.And in the  evening, a little espresso after dinner is divine.

Lunch was another Autogrill stop — just as busy and lots of fun.

Our First Look at Matera

When we arrived, we had to park outside the Sassi and call the hotel about 20 minutes ahead so they could send a car for us. The hotel car picked us up, and by the time we drove into the Sassi we were tired and hot, sitting in a car full of stuff with an excited giant dog squeezing his way around everything.

Check-in was leisurely, with someone showing us around the property and then our cave room (where our bags miraculously appeared). Most importantly, the room was blessedly air-conditioned and cool. The three of us — me, Daren and Koji — seemed to take one proverbial sigh before lying down for a while to cool off and adjust.

Koji was not too keen on going back outside anytime soon, so Daren and I slipped our shoes on and went exploring without him. We took the hotel elevator up to a terrace the receptionist had told us about, and there we got our first real look over the Sassi.

Wow. This was one of those rare times when the view actually was as good as everyone said it would be. And it was the first of many. We thought this one was good!

Next we set out to see the town. About three minutes after walking out the hotel door, I turned around and went back for sneakers with better grip.

Matera is built primarily from local calcarenite, a relatively soft limestone that could be excavated to create the caves and building blocks that form the Sassi. After centuries of wear, those stone streets and stairs are smooth in places — and a smidge slippery.

Take two. We were off.

Wandering the Sassi

It was about 4:30 in the afternoon, a time when we’ve learned that not many self-respecting Italians are out wandering around in August heat. There were enough other tourists that it didn’t feel like a ghost town, though. And the views!

Every corner seemed to open onto another cluster of stone buildings, caves, churches, staircases and terraces. You’d walk down one narrow alley, turn a corner and suddenly be looking across the ravine at the entire city.

That evening we had dinner at 7 — absurdly early by Italian standards — and then wandered through the city after dark. Matera was totally charged! The streets filled with people eating, walking and shopping. Lights came on throughout the Sassi, illuminating all those layers of stone houses across the hillside. The whole place had great energy. There was a string quartet playing at an open air bar high above the ravine, and the music filled the entire section of the city with heavenly music, adding another layer to a magical scene.

Day Two

The rest of our visit was equally slow and beautiful. Yesterday morning, after I did yoga and Daren walked Koji, we put on our sneakers and took a power walk around the ridge of the city before the sun made it too hot.

We came back, showered, had breakfast and then headed out again with Koji to explore the area with more of the shops. Yesterday was basically a repeat of the first with some more shop visits, plus one of the “see how the people lived in the caves” tourist museums; and Daren went to check out the cistern area. There isn’t a giant checklist of things we felt we needed to accomplish here. Matera itself is the thing to see.

Last night at dinner we met an American couple about our age who were here on their honeymoon. They were both on their second marriages, like us, and between them they have five adult children.

It was nice just to sit and speak English with other Americans for a while. It was also interesting listening to their impressions of Italy after being here for only a short time. I could hear in their observations some of the same assumptions we made when we first arrived, and it made me realize how much our own perspective has changed over the past several months. I think we all agreed that two days in Matera feels about right.

So this morning I’m sitting here at breakfast, looking out at this strange and beautiful stone city one last time, and I feel completely happy and satisfied with this stop.

We came. We wandered. We ate. We slept in a cave.

And now… off to Calabria.

Up before the sun today – then watching it come up this morning-

The Downtime

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

By Esterina Anderson

When Daren and I first got here to Italy five months ago, and Daren got the blogging bug (I’ve been blogging for over 10 years), we reframed my WordPress site around our Italy experience and created three areas on that page: My Experience/Posts, Daren’s Experience/Posts, and Our Travelogue.

If you haven’t seen it because you get the blog in your email, it’s EsterinaAnderson.com.

At first we did post separate things, but for a long time now we’ve pretty much only used the joint Travelogue section.

Why am I saying all this? Because this post is from me (Esterina) and belongs completely under the Esterina’s Posts button. This isn’t one of the posts we both edited together, so I don’t want to rope him into this.

We came to Italy to take a break from life and see how other people live.

When we first started tossing around the idea we are now living, the main goal was to step away after retirement, work on my citizenship, and see what happened. And that break is happening.

Our mornings are slow to start. Yoga, then coffee and the New York Times games together. Then often some exercise and computer work. We talk—a lot. Most of the day. We talk during meals, during errands, and on our many long car rides as we travel. This was the goal. To connect, ponder, and explore.

The conversation has shifted and changed since we got here. Initially we thought we might want to do NGO work, maybe in Africa or the EU. Citizenship certainly would open more doors for us to do those things. We also initially considered really ramping up and expanding our small consulting company. Those talks have now evolved into different conversations.

We talk about deep and spiritual things. We talk about how we want to spend the rest of our lives, who we want to be, and how much, if any, work we want to do for profit. We are doing a lot of reading for fun, but also a lot of reading about Life Part II and spirituality. The books we both read, whether novels or not, we talk about often for hours—how the characters behave, who or what they remind us of, and things the other person might not have considered. We talk about experiences we’ve had, both together and separately, and what we’d do differently now. We talk about the similarities and differences between the U.S. and Italy, what we like about each, and what we don’t like about each. We fuss over Koji. We talk about how we want to show up for the people we love.

These conversations have become really important and might just be a keystone of how, in years to come (assuming I’m lucky enough to have years to live), I look back on this time here.

I know from our blogs it probably looks like all fun, games, traveling, and bliss. But there is another side to what we’re doing. It’s not as glamorous, it’s hard to explain, and it has nothing to do with frescoes, churches, or sightseeing. It’s what happens in between, while we are shopping and going to the comune and to the veterinarian.

While I love traveling, the glitz and writing about it have fallen to the back burner for me. We’re mostly going to tourist cities, and for the most part they are very similar. Walled cities with souvenir shops, gelato, and churches. These places are indisputably beautiful, but they’re honestly starting to feel like a lot of the same. Luckily, our next few planned trips are a little more off the beaten path, and the places that aren’t will be with friends who are coming to visit.

In case I haven’t said it before (if you’ve talked to me, you’ve heard it!), I am really tired of Italian food, and it’s almost all we can get while traveling. Daren keeps writing that we eat different things whenever we go to cities, but we don’t go to cities very often. We used to eat Indian food at least once a week, and I think we’ve had it four times since we’ve been here. We can cook different things at home, but even that’s limited. The grocery stores are very large, but not as diverse as I expected.

I’m also really struggling with the cadence of life. The riposo is a bit of whiplash for me. From a non-Italian or non-Spanish perspective, it initially sounds cozy, romantic, relaxing, and family-oriented. Riposo (like a Spanish siesta) is the afternoon break when many businesses close for a few hours. It wasn’t created to inconvenience anyone. It grew out of a culture that values a long midday meal with family, stepping away during the hottest part of the day, and then returning to work later into the evening. It’s a rhythm that made a lot of sense long before air conditioning, supermarkets, and 24-hour convenience became normal in the U.S. and other European countries. But I’m finding it a little depressing. The streets are empty. Stores look like they’ve been closed since the Dark Ages, with metal gates over the doors. The piazzas empty out. It feels like a deserted ghost town.

The riposo and lack of air conditioning go hand in hand. The buildings are made of heavy stone with small windows, so many places are naturally dark. The shutters stay closed to keep the heat out, which means even less natural light. I’m used to bright, open, airy spaces with lots of sunshine, so this doesn’t fit with my natural circadian rhythm, and I find it difficult. I know what I need to do, and I do it. But I haven’t gotten used to it, and I’m struggling a bit.

I’ve been feeling a little off. We were up until 2:00 in the morning Friday night at the opera, and I slept terribly that night. Then I slept poorly again last night because I was overtired. After a mid-afternoon nap, I had a nice break to reflect on how I’d like to say this (which I am doing now).

When I woke up, I just lay there and thought about nothing… in the heat, with the sound of a fan blowing. It reminded me of when I was a kid in Brooklyn and later on Long Island, before we had air conditioning, or when we would only turn it on for a little while during the day. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go. The days felt so long. It felt free. Someone else took care of dinner and the bills. The day would be ahead of me. I’d wake up, lie in bed, and just think about nothing in particular while I listened to the fan blowing.

Today was like that. I need this in my life. Everyone should be fortunate enough to take a (what Daren is calling) sabbatical in their mid-life at some point.

I wanted time to reflect, to think, to decide what to keep and what to let go of—in what I think, what I own, what I do, and what I want to do. While riposo isn’t my cup of tea, it is helping me not “go, go, go” all day and instead take an afternoon break.

Retirement adjustment is a real thing. I knew it wouldn’t be some kind of amazing transition. I wasn’t sure what to expect and this is all part of it.

I’m not sure exactly what I’m trying to say, except that there is much more going on here than what shows up in our Travelogue. While this kind of sounds like a Seinfeld show (in that it’s about nothing), there is so much more than the eye can see in the nothing. There’s been a lot of soul-searching, a lot of downtime, and a lot of adjusting to a different way of life. Some parts of it I think I’ll carry home with me. Other parts I’ll happily leave behind. I don’t think the grass is greener anywhere else, but I do think it’s worth seeing that there are other ways to do things, even in two first world kind of similar countries. I feel blessed to have this experience even though most days do not look like the blogs you read! And I have to say I’m gladder than you would think that the actual experience is not exactly as it may seem in our posts. The nothingness is really where the treasure is for me. And that is something I will always carry with me no matter where I am standing in the world.

Namaste,

Esterina

Murder, Passion, and Lucca: an Italian Opera Weekend

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

by Daren Anderson

The gorgeous sounds of the opera Tosca filled the lakeside amphitheater as we took in the spectacle of an open-air opera in Italy. The leading tenor, Cavaradossi, pours out his love of life and his love for Tosca as he prepares for his imminent execution. No one writes soaring, sumptuous melodies quite like Puccini. And no one writes opera with such passion, tenderness, and heartbreak. The haunting theme of E lucevan le stelle  is passed from a clarinet, to violin, before being taken up by the tenor, and finally returning back to the orchestra. These are melodies that stay with you long after the opera has ended.

Puccini wrote some of the world’s most beloved operas.  He composed many of them from his home on the lake in Torre del Lago, where we found ourselves on Friday evening watching Tosca in an open-air amphitheater. From our seats we watched a full moon rising over the stage while catching glimpses of the lake beyond. Onstage there was torture, passion, betrayal, stabbings, suicides, and of course magnificent music. It was the full Italian opera experience.

We were lucky enough to have heard about the Puccini festival back in the spring, an annual summer-time event in which his operas are performed at Torre del Lago Puccini, where Puccini did much of his composing. To make a weekend out of it, we booked a hotel in the nearby city of Lucca for two nights. Lucca is one of our favorite cities. We first came to Lucca last December on a very quick trip to make a final decision on our apartment. While the rental near Lucca did not work out, we loved the very brief time we spent in the city and vowed to come back when we had more time to explore.

Lucca, like many Italian cities, is surrounded by thick walls. Unlike other towns, Lucca’s Renaissance walls are still completely intact, having never been breached or destroyed. They are impressive to look upon. It is difficult to imagine how many bricks were made and laid, how many workers labored, and over how many years such a massive structure, stretching nearly three miles around the city, was built. It is equally difficult to imagine living in a world where every city needed walls to protect itself from neighboring powers such as Pisa or Florence. But this was the reality of 15th century Italy which explains the fact that so many cities are walled in and, whenever possible, built on top of hills! Defense was critical in the dangerous world of Medieval and Renaissance Italy.  

While the walls were interesting, the best part about them now is that they have been transformed into a kind of outdoor park. The top of the wall is planted with grass and stately trees and there is a paved trail on which one can walk, jog, or cycle completely around the city without interruption. One morning, before the heat settled in, we enjoyed one of our favorite runs since moving to Italy. Koji sniffed a good portion of the walls as well, and even got to spend a bit of time off leash.

Inside the walls, Lucca offers many of the things we have grown accustomed to in Italian cities: ancient churches, lovely piazzas, excellent gelato, Italian restaurants, and centuries of history. Yet the city has an energy all its own. It feels clean, beautifully preserved, and less encumbered by the overwhelming crowds found in nearby Florence.

For me, one of the highlights was a small museum dedicated to Puccini, housed in his ancestral home. The museum had original scores, libretti, some of his clothes and my favorite thing, the Steinway piano on which he composed his works.

Much of our time here felt similar to time in other Italian cities: We had good pizza, good gelato, did some window shopping, and appreciated some historical buildings. And we are starting to feel a bit of “been there, done that” as we continue to explore Italy. But this city still captured me and found a place in my heart.

I am adding it to my list of top places to visit in Italy. I am even thinking about putting together a few sample “itineraries” for those interested in an experience in Italy beyond (or even avoiding) the usual Rome, Venice, Florence circuit. Send me a note if you’d be interested.

We also managed to squeeze in a short trip over to Pisa to see whether the tower still leans. Pisa is only about 30 minutes from Lucca, so after breakfast on our first morning we headed over, hoping to beat both the crowds and the heat. We learned two things. First, the tower does indeed lean—a lot. Second, it is part of an extraordinary complex that includes a magnificent cathedral and baptistry, all set within the Piazza dei Miracoli just inside Pisa’s ancient walls. The cathedral, with its blend of Romanesque, Byzantine, and Islamic influences, is one of the most remarkable I’ve seen in Italy. We also learned that this is one of the most tourist-heavy destinations in the country. By late morning it was packed with tourists, buses, influencers, selfie-snappers, and the heat was becoming intense. We made a quick, surgical strike, admired the tower and cathedral, and retreated before Koji completely melted in the building heat.

Now we are back in Gaville to catch up on projects, get some work done, and implement a new strategy for dealing with the heat. Heat is a new reality that has taken center stage recently. Our apartment has no air conditioning, relying instead on its thick stone walls and high ceilings to stay comfortable. This strategy has worked well for hundreds of years, but this week, with temperatures are hovering daily around 100, it is becoming a bit more of a challenge.

We are learning to adapt. We have standing fans upstairs and downstairs. One blows on us all night. We are also reorganizing our days, taking advantage of the morning hours before the heat sets in. We try to get our exercise and dog walks in early. By 1pm it is simply too hot to run or bike, or even to walk around. During the afternoon we try to move less, drink a lot of fluids, and avoid going out whenever possible.

The extreme heat has added a whole new and unwelcome element to our experience, turning summer, which has always been the best time of year for outdoor activity and travel, into more of a grim slog requiring strategizing and sapping the enjoyment out of many experiences. Fortunately, autumn is not far away.

We continue to find ways to adapt to life in Italy. Learning to live with the heat is simply the latest chapter in a year of discovering new places, embracing unfamiliar routines, and, along the way, learning more about ourselves. That was, after all, the point of this entire adventure. I have no doubt that we will return home with a renewed appreciation for much of what we left behind, but also changed by an experience that was as much about looking inward as looking outward.

Veneto & Friuli Venezia Giulia

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

It’s been a few weeks since we last blogged. Mostly because we’ve been traveling, but also because it’s been so hot that it’s harder to be motivated to do much more than sit in front of a fan (yes, a fan, because A/C is a lot less common here than in the US)!

Before I write about our recent trip, I want to step back and tell you about the regions of Italy.

Italy is divided into 20 regions which are, in some ways, like our states. Many of these regions you’ve probably heard about, like Tuscany, Campagna, Piedmont, or Sicily. Five of the regions have a sort of special status. They are fully part of the country of Italy, but they are considered “autonomous regions”. Unlike Italy’s other regions, these five have a little more control over their own affairs because of their geography, history, or cultural identity. Some have strong French, German, or Slovene influences. Others are islands with strong local traditions and culture. The reasons for this special status are historical and cultural.

I was excited to learn about these regions. I am not technically able to travel outside of Italy without risking my residency in Italy. I’ve been here more than the 90 days that are allowed in the Schengen countries of Europe. Because I have a pending citizenship application, I am allowed to stay in Italy past the 90 days. But other countries like France or Germany might not see it that way. So we’ve essentially made peace with the idea of staying put in Italy until things are “official”. Poor us. But in truth, I have been getting a bit tired of Italian food. Hard to believe. And much of what we’ve seen is starting to look a bit familiar; piazza, Roman ruins, hilltop castle. It’s all incredibly beautiful, but I was starting to crave something just a little different. Perhaps these autonomous regions would do the trick. Maybe a visit to one of them would be like leaving the country without actually leaving the country.

Two of the five are a little harder for us to get to—Sicily and Sardinia. We may make it to Sicily this winter when it’s cooler, but Sardinia, while I’d love to go, just might not be in the cards. The other three are close enough to make easy road trips.

So we started out with a trip to Valle d’Aosta a few weeks ago. We wrote about the trip itself, but we not much about the culture. I was genuinely excited as we crossed into this special region. I was hoping to see something a little different and, even more importantly, eat something a little different. The architecture changed almost immediately. The towns we visited looked more like Swiss Alpine villages—which makes perfect sense since it borders Switzerland.

I couldn’t wait for dinner.

Unfortunately, we arrived at our hotel in Courmayeur a little late and many places were already closed. We ended up at a small restaurant that mostly served pizza and the usual Italian staples. It did have fondue on the menu. Fondue and polenta were about the only things that felt new (and honestly, polenta isn’t exactly that “new”). And the fondue came with the standard cured meats for dipping, and the rest of the menu followed the familiar antipasti, primi, secondi, and contorni format. The other restaurants we looked at were much the same—maybe one or two dishes that weren’t on menus elsewhere in Italy, but not much beyond that. The homes and building definitely looked different, and the mountain scenery was a major change, but the food was solidly “Italian”.

So last week we set out for the regions of Veneto and Friuli Venezia Giulia. The latter is one is another of Italy’s five special autonomous regions.

Below is a photo of the Italian regions. The pins are where we have pin and the blue circles highlight the 5 special regions.

VERONA

When we got to Verona, I was seriously surprised at how much international stuff there was. There was an international pharmacy that specializes in helping foreigners. There was food other than Italian! Of course Italian food still dominated the scene, but there were more options than we’d found in Florence. It wasn’t always obvious, either. What looked like a typical Italian restaurant often had burgers, wings, salmon, potatoes… no Thai or deli sandwiches, but things… options. Exciting! You can tell from my writing that I really am craving some non-Italian food!

Verona itself was just… pretty. I get why Shakespeare set Romeo and Juliet there. We used an app for a self-guided walking tour and were quite impressed with the history that was visible and beautifully preserved. When strolling through Verona you move seamlessly amongst well preserved Roman ruins, including a large coliseum, Medieval buildings, elegant palazzos, and lots of lovely piazzas. The town felt vibrant and well preserved without feeling run down.The squares were probably the coziest and most inviting we’ve seen yet. Other cities have squares that are more architecturally impressive, but Verona had a warmth to it that we just loved!

One medieval square had an ancient fountain from which Koji was delighted to take a drink, and a host of buildings colorfully decorated wiht frescos from the 1400’s. It contained a market, just as it had 600 years ago, although todays “market” featured refrigerator magnets, hand held fans, and granitas, rather than mutton or grain.

My favorite evening was one when we left Koji behind in the hotel to recover from the heat, and just wander the city as dusk fell. We stumbled onto Castelvecchio just as the sun was setting and slowly walked across an ancient medieval bridge that connected the castle to the other side of the river. It was truly magical. Unlike some of the other castles we’ve visited, this one felt like a place people had actually lived in—the kind of castle you imagine in fairy tales. It even had a moat and a drawbridge. We didn’t rush back. Instead, we meandered along the river, enjoying in the fading light and watching people enjoy the cooler evening air. Magical!

We thought two nights might be too much for Verona. Instead, we left wishing we’d stayed longer and are already hoping to come back.

TREVISO

Next we went on to try out our first stay at an agriturismo. Think of it as somewhere between a bed & breakfast, an AirBnB, and a farm stay. There are agriturismos all over Italy. Many are working farms that have converted part of their property into guest accommodations, often serving food made from ingredients they grow or produce themselves. They’re scattered throughout the Italian countryside and are a great way to experience a quieter side of Italy.

I was not expecting air conditioning, a large space, or almost anything really—and whoa what a surprise! It was hands down one of the nicest places we’ve stayed. This agriturismo was part of a working family winery making Proseco, along with a few red and white wine varietals. We literally walked out of our room and into a vineyard. And it was inexpensive as heck! It wasn’t close to much, so driving was a must, but it was absolutely perfect as a stop between cities.

Our main objective in coming to this part of Veneto was to check out Treviso and, of course, to try tiramisu. What we didn’t realize is that we would discover unexpectedly, one of the most beautiful regions we’ve seen in Italy. But first, Treviso.

Treviso is sometimes called “Little Venice” because it has canals that wind through parts of the historic center, although on a much smaller scale than its famous neighbor. More importantly, from our perspective was that it is widely credited as the birthplace of tiramisu, with several cafés claiming to have created the dessert in the 1970s. Whether that’s completely true or not, it was reason enough to visit.

Well, a mini Venice is a S-T-R-E-T-C-H, but I can see how one might say that. The canals were scenic and beautiful in their own right, but had little in common with those in Venice. I actually think Treviso would be wise to drop the comparison to Venice and instead just promote itself as a beautiful town on a river with many lovely little canals running through the historic town center. Think swans and weeping willows rather than gondolas and serenades.

We did our research ahead of time on the place where tiramisu was supposedly “invented”: Le Becchieria, an old and respected restaurant that now, with its tiramisu fame, has added a bakery café for those seeking this famed dessert.

I had a twinge of missing my dad here. For some unknown reason, when he met Daren back in 2010 over breakfast one morning at my brother’s house, he was already talking about what we’d have for dinner. Like many Italians, food was never very far from his mind. He didn’t know Daren from Adam, but somehow decided Daren liked Fra Diavolo. Later that evening, when we picked up Italian takeout, there was the Fra Diavolo for Daren and tiramisu because, apparently, “Daren & Gabby like it.”

This was quite funny to all of us at the time—my dad deciding who liked what. The funny part was that Daren had never even had Fra Diavolo before that night, although he did end up really liking it. Gabby, on the other hand, never liked tiramisu, and while Daren certainly wouldn’t turn up his nose at it, he’d never have called it a favorite. Well now, after nearly five months in Italy, Daren claims that tiramisu is in fact one of his favorite deserts, and the one at this little restaurant in the small town of Treviso, is the best!

So here we were in the birthplace of tiramisu… and I thought of Pops. As I said, I’m not a fan, but this was truly the best tiramisu I’d ever had. We usually share desserts, but we each got our own piece, and it was 100% worth the calories—and getting completely full.

Later that day we took a drive and discovered the unexpected highlight of the trip: The Proseco Hills, the place where the famous Italian bubbly is made.

The hills between Asolo and Valdobbiadene are a UNESCO World Heritage Site, recognized for their centuries-old vineyards and the unique landscape shaped by generations of winemakers. This is the heart of Prosecco country. While wines labeled “Prosecco” can be grown and produced from a wide range of places across north-eastern Italy, only Prosecco from two small regions, Valdobbiadene and Asolo, can be designated “DOCG”, indicating the highest quality and strict adherence to the ancient methods of growth and production.

We drove through several of the towns. Each one we came to was more beautiful than the last. The views were drop-dead amazing. Rolling hills covered with vines. Proseco grape clusters hanging down from the vines. The Alps themselves looming in the north. Farms, churches, and houses dotting the hilly landscape. We had the windows down, Koji had his head out the window, it was the golden hour, and it will forever be one of the more memorable drives I’ve taken in my life. Daren mapped out the entire route, and I’m so thankful he did.

TRIESTE

Our last stop was the autonomous region of Friuli Venezia Giulia where we hopefully would find some hearty Eastern European food. On the way, we stopped in Aquileia, another UNESCO World Heritage Site. Once one of the biggest and wealthiest cities of the Roman Empire, Aquileia is home to remarkably preserved Roman ruins, one of the world’s first Christian churches, and among the largest and best-preserved mosaic floors in the world. It’s considered one of Italy’s most important archaeological sites.

And yet… it was here, walking down the street in the burning sun on our way to another church, and I thought, I don’t think I can walk into one more dimly lit church, crane my neck to look at another fresco, and pretend to care why or how it got there. I had officially hit historical site overload.

So I sat outside with Koji in the shade and urged Daren to go geek out on this stuff. According to Daren, the mosaic floor was truly spectacular. The basilica was first built in 313 AD, but the current structure dates from the 11th century. However, the floor is the thing that visitors come to see. You enter the church on a raised plexiglass floor and look down on an enormous expanse of mosaic floor perfectly preserved from the 300’s, showing scenes from the bible as well as animals and fish and complex Roman designs. It’s amazing to learn that some of the original structure was destroyed by the Huns, yes the Huns, but the floor remained intact.

After Daren finished viewing the church, we were getting hot, hungry and cranky, so after an unremarkable (truly terrible) lunch, we hopped back in the car and headed for Trieste.

Trieste has an interesting historical and cultural background. It only became part of Italy after WWI. Prior to that, it was a major port city in the Austro-Hungarian empire where goulash, schnitzel, and beer were more likely to be found than pasta, pizza, and red wine. It’s history, culture, buildings, and traditions share more in common with Vienna and the Balkans than with Italy.

We arrived smack in the middle of a Sunday afternoon in July, not far from the famous Miramare Castle. Right on the water at a cute(ish) hotel on the Adriatic where it looked like Spring Break: Trieste Edition.

There was no beach to speak of—just a few miles of stone and concrete waterfront where hundreds of people were stretched out in the sun or under the trees. There were stairways leading down to the water and the whole city was swimming, or so it seemed. It was a scene! I wasn’t sure I was going to like this place. Too crazy? Too busy?

So we headed into the city and left Koji back at the hotel enjoying what turned out to be the best thing about it—the air conditioning. Naturally, we started with gelato and coffee. We went straight to the recommended gelato shop, but the line was so long you had to take a number, so we skipped it and found another place in the main square where we could sit in the shade.

The gelato was more like ice cream, and my Americano (I think) tasted like classic drip coffee. I don’t know for sure, but it smelled and tasted unlike any coffee I’ve had so far in Italy. I loved every drop of it. Maybe things were different in Trieste. Afterward we wandered through the canal area and walked up to Castello di San Giusto for views over the city.

When we got back, the crowds had thinned enough to allow us to walk along the waterfront with a dog, so we took Koji for a walk. For dinner we stopped at one of the permanent food kiosks along the way. I wasn’t expecting much, but my sandwich was one of the best sandwiches I’ve had in a long time. Daren got a burger that he said was great, and we finished with Nutella crêpes.

By evening the crowds had thinned further, the air had cooled, and suddenly Trieste felt completely different. The place started to grow on me.

The next morning I went for one of the most pleasant runs. Monday morning was a completely different world; sun, cooler temperatures, and no crowds. Later we grabbed Koji and walked down to Miramare Castle. That ended up being my favorite place in all of Trieste. With my historical site overload still in full force, I insisted Daren tour the castle while Koji and I enjoyed the shade and people-watching. I went back by myself the next day and wandered the grounds for a long time.

We went back into the city one more time before heading home, but I think we’re officially “citied” out for a while. Instead, we spent most of the afternoon reading and talking along the waterfront before ending the day at an American restaurant that looked like something straight out of the Old West.

You’ll likely sense a bit of travel exhaustion if you read between the lines above. We are incredibly lucky to be able to have these experiences, and we have seen and done so much. But there is such a thing as too much of a good thing, and I think we may have hit that point during this trip. It’s not black and white. We loved so many of the things we saw and did, but some of the little annoyances that you either don’t perceive, or don’t assign much weight to on a brief vacation, can start to grate a bit more after many months. It’s also very apparent that the heat is has a major negative impact on our enjoyment. It’s just very hard to escape the hot sun and the air conditioning that we are so accustomed to in the U.S is not as ubiquitous over here. That is where we are. We are taking a bit of time off back “home” in Gaville to rest up. But we’ll be back on the road next month with a trip down south to see the family and spend some time on the beach.

Until we blog again!

Piedmont Region of Italy

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

By Esterina Anderson

Following directly after our last blog in Valle d’Aosta https://esterinaanderson.com/2026/06/21/italy-has-more-to-offer-than-hilltop-towns-and-great-cities/

After the rugged beauty of Valle d’Aosta, our next stretch through northern Italy brought an entirely different rhythm—lake life, elegant city streets, and rolling wine country.

This leg of the trip felt softer. Less dramatic mountains, more charm and leisure. More time by the water, slower mornings, and places that surprised us in ways we didn’t expect.

As we left the Alps of Valle d’Aosta behind us, the flat fertile plains of Piedmont spread out before us. This is a land of serious agriculture. It felt more like Kansas than Italy with the miles and miles of cornfields. Only here there were also sunflowers, rice and lots of hay. This is one of the areas where risotto and polenta come from. 

As we turned North into the Lake region, the farmland gave way to foothills- the Alps towering in the distance once again. 

Once in Lake Orta it felt like we landed in a tiny vacation paradise where people were clearly there simply to enjoy the lake, slow, swim, rest, and soak it all in.

Our hotel had an incredible infinity pool overlooking the water, and from there it was also possible to step right into the lake itself. As ocean people, swimming in truly fresh water felt both strange and exciting.

Orta San Giulio felt like something out of a storybook. Narrow winding streets lined with charming little shops opened into the main piazza right on the water.

We wandered through the streets & shops and ended up purchasing a small original painting from an artist who works exclusively with palette knives instead of brushes. He was running the small shop so we had the chance to meet him, which always makes a piece of art feel more special. 

The town is also home to the Sacro Monte di Orta, a UNESCO World Heritage Site dedicated to St. Francis of Assisi. The sacred mount consists of 20 chapels built between the 16th and 18th centuries, each filled with frescoes and life-sized sculptures depicting moments from the life of St. Francis.

We spent a leisurely few hours exploring all 20 chapels with Koji. It was obscenely hot, and about halfway through we found the perfect open-air café where we cooled off and rested before finishing the walk.

https://youtu.be/-oHBP8MpHoE?feature=shared

Another day, we took the short ferry ride from the piazza to Isola San Giulio, the tiny island that sits in the center of the lake.

The island is home to a basilica, a Benedictine abbey, and a small community of cloistered nuns. Cars are not allowed, and the atmosphere is meant to be quiet and contemplative.

One of the most special parts of visiting the island was walking the “Path of Silence and Meditation,” a peaceful path that circles the island. Along the route are signs with reflections on silence, stillness, and contemplation.

The walk itself is short. It was also so meaningful that we walked it three times.

The first time, we just took in the stillness. The second time, we slowed down even more. After that second lap, Daren noticed there were additional reflections written on the backs of each sign. So naturally, we walked it a third time to take those in too. Koji cooled himself in the water while we mostly just honored the quiet.

https://youtu.be/SSD9uz_iTsQ?feature=shared

Our next stop was Turin. But before heading there, we made a small detour to Sacro Monte della Santissima Trinità near Lake Maggiore. After loving Sacro Monte in Orta, we thought another sacred mount would be worth exploring.

Unfortunately, this one felt entirely different. It felt isolated, neglected, and depressing. Still beautiful in its own way, but we didn’t stay long. 

Instead, we headed to Cannobio near the Swiss border in search of lunch. It ended up being more of a functional stop than a memorable one. The town was pleasant enough, with colorful flags stretching along the waterfront and hints of its international location near Switzerland.

From there, we made our way to Turin. My cousin Vinny and his wife Katia live there, and we had made plans to meet up. They were waiting for us at our hotel when we arrived.

Turin was nothing like we expected. I had heard it described as “Little Paris,” but I really couldn’t picture just how elegant and charming it would feel. The city center is massive, beautifully maintained, and at times it barely felt like Italy.

There are dozens of piazzas, grand tree-lined boulevards, statues, fountains, and endless porticos that stretch for miles across the city. Turin was the first capital of unified Italy, and you can feel that history in its grandeur and architecture. It feels sophisticated, and refined.

One thing Turin is especially known for is Bicerin, a traditional drink dating back to the 18th century made with espresso, drinking chocolate, and cream served in layers in a small glass. The name means “little glass” in the local dialect. Of course, we had to try it.

As a funny side note, I happened to be reading the The Italian Daughter on my Kindle during this part of the trip. It wasn’t my favorite book, but I enjoyed it enough to keep going—and it turned out to be a strange little coincidence because part of the story touches on the history of Nutella and Piedmont’s chocolate traditions.

When we found a cozy café to try bicerin, sitting there was a pastry called a pain au chocolat—essentially the French cousin of a chocolate croissant.

I wasn’t expecting much. My entire life, Italian pastries around family gatherings were everywhere, and truthfully I never loved most of them. I also wasn’t expecting to be blown away by something that looked like a simple chocolate pastry. 

I was wrong and it was incredible. Warm, buttery, flaky, and filled with just the right amount of chocolate—so good! 

The bicerin was equally delicious. Rich, and indulgent. It was so special, unique & interesting. If you find yourself in Turin and are curious it’s one of those things that lives up to its hype. 

Turin is filled with beautiful buildings, fascinating sites, and so much history. Vinny and Katia gave us a wonderful overview of the city. Unfortunately, the day we planned to explore more of the major sites, the weather had other plans. Those porticos ended up being a game changer!

Instead, we ended up back at their home for a lovely meal and even more meaningful conversation. Vinny is a little older than me, and although I saw him often when we were kids, age differences feel much bigger when you’re young. 

It was really special to discover how much we had in common—how our family experiences shaped us in similar ways, how much we understood without needing to explain, and simply how much Daren & I genuinely enjoyed being with them. I only wish we lived closer.

Turin quickly became one of our highest recommendations—and one we still feel we haven’t fully explored. I suspect we’ll be back.

The final stop on this two-week trip was the Langhe Valley in Piedmont. The Langhe is known for rolling vineyard-covered hills, prestigious wines like Barolo and Barbaresco, and world-famous hazelnuts. The landscape is stunning—gentler and softer than Tuscany’s rugged beauty, but beautiful in its own way.

Vineyards and hazelnut orchards stretch as far as the eye can see. It’s also the birthplace of Nutella, something I only learned because of the book I was reading. Naturally, we expected to find some sort of Nutella celebration in the area. Truly surprisingly there is nothing, not even a fridge magnet.

From what I read, Ferrero has historically been very private and protective of both its brand and its famously secret recipe. They don’t really get into tourism or public spectacle around Nutella the way you might expect.

There were hiking opportunities everywhere, with trails weaving through vineyards and rolling hills. But it was too hot to enjoy them – not that we didn’t try! We did and gave up. 

Instead, we spent much of our time enjoying the hotel, the pool, and the surrounding views.

Not every stop becomes a favorite. Some places we immediately loved and others can end of being a place to rest. 

Lake Orta gave us peace and the lake vibe. 
Turin gave us a city vibe and family connection. 
The Langhe gave us beauty and rest.

This was a great exploration of the Piedmont region. As long as it was and as happy as I am to be headed back home to Tuscany, I kind of wish it was just a little longer. 

Ciao Amici!

The Italy Situation: A Dog’s Perspective, Part Two

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

Posted by Koji Anderson

Hi again. It’s me, Koji.

It’s been a while since I last wrote. I don’t write as much as mommy or daddy, but I do feel it’s important to keep everyone informed about this Italy situation from my canine point of view.

First, I want to say this: I love that mommy, daddy, and I are almost always together. We spend nearly every day together and I go everywhere with them. Back in America, they used to disappear for mysterious stretches of time. I never fully understood where they went or why they insisted on leaving me behind. Here in Italy, we are together constantly, and really, I like this arrangement much better.

I can’t talk to them, of course, but they seem to know exactly when I’m too tired for an adventure. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes I’m happy to stay behind at home or in the cool air-conditioning of a hotel while they go do human things.

Still, most of the time, I’m ready! The exciting part is that I never know where we’re going.

I know mommy and daddy tell me with their voices, but I have absolutely no idea what they’re saying. I just wag my tail and occasionally jump straight into the air with all four paws off the ground to show enthusiasm. Sometimes I nudge my leash with my nose to let them know I’m fully committed to whatever madness lies ahead.

But what we are doing is always a surprise and usually something new and exciting.

When they say “bye bye in the car”, the car ride might be five minutes or five hours. We might go for a short walk or a giant hike. We could be climbing mountains, walking through cities, going into stores, visiting parks, or ending up at a restaurant. Every day feels like a mystery and an adventure. I’ve also mastered several new skills that took courage!

Recently we went to the mountains. Really big mountains! Daddy says I want to over 11,000 feet, which is the highest my dog body has ever been. To get there, I had a truly wild experience involved a giant clear box that carried us up a mountain bigger than I could have imagined. At first I was nervous. But there were other humans and other dogs, and nobody seemed concerned, so I decided to remain calm and brave. When we reached the top, the air was cooler and smelled incredible. I loved it.

We’ve done some epic hikes, particularly when we were in the mountains. As long as it’s cool outside, I absolutely love being off leash and investigating whatever interests me. But on hot days mommy and daddy become very focused on hydration. They’re constantly trying to get me to drink water. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. When I don’t they pour the water from the bowl on my head. This was very confusing at first. While we were in Aosta, a man was enthusiastically demonstrating this technique using hand motions. Mommy somehow understood him, and ever since then… water on the head. I think I like it, but I feel the need to pretend I don’t.

What does surprise me is the heat. Except for on top of that mountain where it was cool, the rest of Italy has been ridiculously hot lately, so I’ve started guiding mommy and daddy toward shaded areas whenever possible. It’s tough being black and furry at 30+ degrees Celsius. When it is I try to lead Mommy and Daddy into air-conditioned stores or any establishment that sells food. Especially food. There was a wonderful store in Norcia a few weeks ago that sold salami (or salumi in Italian). The man in the store kept giving me samples, hoping Daddy would buy some. He did.

But the best way to cool of is to jump into the water. I love any kind of water—lakes, rivers, streams, oceans. When I get near water, my leash usually comes off and I run straight in. I like to wade in until my body is submerged. Nothing cools me off better than submerging in the water of an Alpine stream or a lake! And I always try to sneak a drink. Sometimes mommy and daddy allow it and sometimes they don’t. Apparently salty water is not acceptable and fresh water is encouraged. This seems confusing. How exactly am I supposed to know whether water is salty or not unless I taste it first?

I’ve also gotten very used to city life. The bricks, cobblestones, and all the different textures beneath my paws no longer surprise me. I even do my business on cobblestones when there is no grass or tree nearby. This is sometimes necessary when you are in a city that is thousands of years old.

There are many other strange things in cities. Take the magic box. Mommy calls it an elevator. Daddy says I probably think it’s like a transporter from Star Trek. All I know is this: we walk into a tiny room in one place, the doors close, strange things happen, and then the doors open somewhere completely different. It makes no sense. At first I was concerned. Now I’m mostly impressed. I’ve learned how to steady my legs when it moves, though I still sniff the doors every time because I’m determined to understand the technology.

I am also still not a huge fan of the moving stairs that we encounter in some cities. Getting onto them requires courage. Remaining on them requires trust. But once I’m on, it’s quite exciting! I just stand there while the stairs do all the work which is great because these days, at 12 years old, stairs are a lot of work.

Many stores in cities put water bowls outside for thirsty dogs. I have deep respect for these businesses. My favorite stops, of course, are restaurants. Mommy and daddy sit down for very long periods of time while I settle beneath the table. Usually I position myself in the most inconvenient place possible—preferably where a waiter, chair, or human foot will definitely need to pass. I stretch out to maximum length. I block traffic. I become an obstacle. This is both comfortable and entertaining. I’m better than I used to be, but I still can’t always control myself when another dog walks by. I’m working on it. Still, restaurants are wonderful. I often hear waiters say words like “aqua per cane?” and suddenly a beautiful bowl of cold water appears just for me. It feels luxurious. Michelin dog stars for them.

I also went on a train for the first time. It moved incredibly fast and was very bumpy and bouncy.  I was unable to fully relax and spent most of the ride alert and slightly confused. But that experience prepared me well for something else that was new: the Metro. Yesterday in Torino I rode one for the first time, and I’d like everyone to know I handled it beautifully. The subway was smooth, quiet, and efficient. I walked on like I’d been doing it my entire life. I am becoming extremely adaptable.

Mommy has started calling me a professional travel dog. I must admit, I’ve become very good at hotels. I trot confidently down hallways like I own the place. I know the routine now. And I can always tell when it’s another dog’s first hotel stay. They’re nervous, unsure and a bit overstimulated. I want to tell them it’s okay, and fun and that they will see soon for themselves. But usually I’m guided along, so instead I just mosey along like a seasoned professional.

Even with all this experience, there are still things that freak me out. One day we were walking in a beautiful park and entered a castle. Everything was lovely until I stopped dead in my tracks. We were walking along and suddenly there was no floor ahead. At least, that’s what it looked like. Mommy and daddy walked right onto it like complete lunatics, but I knew better. I planted myself firmly and refused to move. Again, I was forced into personal growth. Eventually I realized there was a floor—it was just clear glass. Underneath me were ancient ruins. ANCIENT RUINS. I don’t know what that means exactly, but mommy and daddy were pretty impressed.  Once I understood I wasn’t going to fall into history, I cautiously walked across. Very cautiously. Tiny steps at first, maximum suspicion. It was ok! And kind of cool except that I couldn’t smell the ruins.

And last but not least… one of my favorite things in all of Italy is gelato. When we go out I always get some. Sometimes there is dog friendly gelato and sometimes I eat the human kind. I can’t tell the difference, I just know it’s cool and delicious and I sit there and eat it with determination until it’s gone.

This whole adventure has been full of surprises. I’ve become an expert in elevators, escalators, trains, subways, hotels, glass floors, mountain hikes, cable cars, hydration strategies, gelato and restaurant etiquette. I think I am braver than I used to be, more adaptable, and more worldly.

This Italy country continues to impress me. It seems like people really like dogs here. I am allowed almost everywhere, even in stores and restaurants. And everyone pets me and says things like “bravo cane” or “que bello”. I think that means I am good and I am handsome. So that’s my update on life in Italy. I’m having a really good time.

Until next time,
Koji

A Milestone & Some Mountains

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

I was afraid to say anything last week for fear of jinxing it, but I had my Italian citizenship appointment last Tuesday. It was an unexpected surprise, and in this instance alone my immigration attorney was worth his weight in gold. I should have been able to register as a resident nearly from the moment we set foot in Italy, but due to a myriad of issues, the comune (city hall) somehow lost my residency application. We are still waiting for one final document from the U.S., but because the comune dropped the ball, my lawyer was able to negotiate an appointment anyway.

Below is a photo of me with the mountain of paperwork I’ve been gathering since 2018, just before heading down to the comune. From here, I’m still awaiting approval of the residency application, and I still need to submit that final document. Assuming all goes well, citizenship should hopefully be completed in the coming months. Fingers crossed.

Right after the appointment, we hopped into the car and headed NORTH. In case you haven’t heard, Europe is in the middle of a serious heat wave, so escaping to the mountains sounded pretty perfect.

Our first stop was Valle d’Aosta, and wow—it felt very different from the rest of Italy we’ve experienced so far. Tucked into the far northwest corner of the country and bordered by both France and Switzerland, Valle d’Aosta is Italy’s smallest region. It’s also one of Italy’s five autonomous regions, meaning it has more self-governance due to its unique geography and history. French and Italian are both official languages here, and you can feel that blend everywhere—from the road signs, to the architecture, to the food.

And the food? Definitely mountain food in the best possible way. Think polenta, fontina cheese, wild game, cured meats, and hearty dishes designed to fuel hikers and skiers. I’m not a cured meat gal, but I can definitely appreciate it!

We spent four absolutely beautiful days in this mountain region—mostly hiking, a little shopping, and of course eating.

The first night we arrived fairly late since we got a delayed start after the comune appointment. We dropped our bags at the hotel and headed straight out for dinner. It was late—which is when Italians eat—and for once we fit right in. We are usually the first people at a restaurant when they open at 7:30, but this night the town was buzzing.

We had to try a polenta dish, of course. We also met a lovely couple from New York City and spent the evening enjoying easy conversation in English, which always feels comforting after always making attempts at piecing together Italian.

The next day we headed up to Monte Bianco (or Mont Blanc in French). There is a cable car that takes you up the mountain to Pointe Helbronner, one of the highest accessible points in Italy. Pets are allowed, so naturally Koji joined the adventure. This was a new experience for all of us. We went all the way up to 11,371 feet, the highest altitude myself, Daren, or Koji had ever been. When we stepped out into the open air at that height, it was exhilarating. One of us may have cried a little from sheer amazement.

The temperature was incredible too—just 9°C (48°F). After the heat we’ve been living in, it felt absolutely amazing. We were surrounded by serious hikers and climbers preparing for much bigger adventures than ours. The station sits so close to the French border that part of the complex is essentially in France. The border crossing area was closed, which was fine by me since while waiting for citizenship I’m not supposed to cross borders anyway.

After reaching the highest point, we took the cable car down to the midpoint where there were easier trails, family areas, and food. We had lunch with a spectacular view and then went for a leisurely hike to a beautiful waterfall with fresh glacial water flowing through.

That evening we wanted something hearty and casual, and there was a burger place right in the middle of Courmayeur. Daren and I had fantastic burgers with fresh fontina cheese and fries. Koji got a few scraps. None of us had had burgers in ages and they were SO good. We took a long walk afterward to burn off some of the indulgence and explored even more of the beautiful town.

The following day we laced up our hiking shoes and headed toward one of the local rifugi. A rifugio is basically a mountain refuge or alpine hut—part shelter, part restaurant, and sometimes part lodging for hikers tackling longer routes through the mountains. They’re a huge part of hiking culture in the Alps.

The trail itself wasn’t supposed to be very long, so we brought Koji. But when we arrived near the trailhead, the road was closed for 3 km leading up to it. No problem, we thought. It was hot, but there were plenty of glacial streams and shaded areas to cool down. One of the coolest parts was passing cows and sheep everywhere.

When we finally reached the trailhead, the sign said 50 minutes. I honestly thought that had to be for slow people. Everyone around us had hiking poles and serious gear. We had a backpack, hiking shoes, and Koji—who, of course, was completely naked. The trail was marked level E. I’m actually glad I didn’t know what that meant beforehand because I may have chickened out.

We instantly understood the 50-minute estimate.

The climb was steep. Really steep. But it was also jaw-droppingly beautiful. We let Koji off leash and he had the time of his life despite the heat and climb. He was an absolute trooper.

When we finally reached the rifugio, it was completely worth it! This particular rifugio sits fairly close to the Swiss border. It’s about halfway up to the border crossing trail. Before leaving in the morning, we considered continuing all the way up, but with an aging dog, tired legs, and the extra 3 km to and from the car, we wisely decided halfway was enough.

We rewarded ourselves with a hearty lunch of more polenta and cinghiale (wild boar), then spent time cooling down and taking in the views. Hikers from all over the world were there in various stages of their journeys. Languages filled the air, though French and Italian were the most common.

After resting and refueling, we were ready to head back down. The descent was much faster and much easier. Koji slowed down during the last couple of kilometers, but he did so well. Such a good boy!!

The next day we needed a break from the mountains and rugged hiking, so we headed to the capital city of Aosta. We did a little shopping, gelato eating, lunching, and site seeing.

Aosta is often called the Rome of the Alps because ancient Roman ruins are scattered all throughout the city. Unlike Rome, though, there’s almost no heavy tourism around them, which makes it feel especially cool.

The Roman theater was under renovation, but we still managed to peek through construction barriers. We also saw arches, gates, and the Criptoportico Forense, an underground Roman structure that once surrounded the sacred area of the forum and helped support the complex above. The whole day was steamy hot.

On the way back to Courmayeur, we stopped in the town of Fénis to see its famous castle.

Castello di Fénis is exactly what comes to mind when you picture a fairy-tale castle—towers, battlements, stone walls, and all. Built in the 13th and 14th centuries, it’s one of the best-preserved medieval castles in the region and somehow looks even more magical in person.

That last night, we left Koji relaxing in the cool hotel while Daren and I returned to the burger place one last time. After dinner we wandered through town again, this time down side streets and little shortcuts, discovering charming homes, tucked-away parks, and quiet corners we hadn’t seen before.

The next morning, after a brisk run and a complimentary breakfast buffet, we packed the car for the next leg of our trip.

But not before one final stop in Bard.

We wanted to see the impressive Fort Bard, a massive 19th-century fortress built by the House of Savoy on a rocky cliff overlooking the valley. Historically, it guarded one of the most strategic mountain passes into Italy and famously slowed Napoleon’s army for nearly two weeks. It is an imposing structure.

We opted not to tour inside the fort and instead wandered through Bard’s medieval streets and soaked in the atmosphere. Koji seemed especially happy to find a fire hydrant in the middle of a medieval village and drink from one of the old public fountains.

This little town sits close to the border of Piedmont, our next destination. So we said Arrivederci—or Au revoir—to Valle d’Aosta and headed onward to the next adventure.

Thanks for reading! Would love to hear from you too, we love hearing your comments ❤️

To see some video, check out the YouTube video we made of this week –

https://youtu.be/3buB_D3XkrY?feature=shared

What Italy is Teaching Me: What Remains

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

By Esterina Anderson

A few weeks ago when we were in Chiavari, we walked the promenade there over and over. Drinks for aperitivo were advertised all over the place, and next to the usual Aperol Spritz I kept seeing something called a Hugo Spritz.

Last night I finally decided to look up what it was and make a non-alcoholic version at home. We happened to have the right ingredients, and Oh My Gosh, it was delicious –  Light, refreshing, and perfect for sitting outside on a hot summer evening!

We were out on our back balcony enjoying the drinks and the view when I noticed my glass was halfway gone. My immediate thought was that I should go inside and make another.

But I caught myself. That thought felt very familiar. For a long time, I thought this was just part of my drinking problem. But I’ve come to realize it’s bigger than alcohol. The deeper issue is scarcity.

If I love the taste of something, the moment I notice it’s running out my mind shifts. Instead of enjoying what is still there, I start thinking about how it’s going to be gone and how I can replace it. If it’s replaceable, half full becomes a signal to refill.

What’s interesting is that this didn’t disappear when I stopped drinking alcohol. I noticed the same pattern with seltzer, soda, and other NA drinks. The object changes, but the thought pattern stays the same.

As I sat there looking at my glass, I thought about the saying: glass half full or glass half empty.

I’ve always kind of thought of myself as a glass-half-empty person, though that never fully made sense. People who know me often describe me as optimistic, sunny, and positive. So why have I always identified more with half empty? I think I finally understand.

This isn’t really about optimism or pessimism. It’s about how quickly my mind shifts from enjoyment to scarcity. The moment something reaches halfway, I stop experiencing what’s still there and start focusing on what’s disappearing. And that mindset can insidiously steal joy.

Way back in 1992, someone told me something that left a deep impression on me. Her grandfather always said to think of the gas tank as empty once it hits halfway. If you fill it before it drops below half, and you’ll never risk running out. That idea embedded itself in me.

I developed this strong need to prevent depletion. Refill early. Stay ahead. Don’t run out. In many ways, that mindset has served me well. I’m organized and prepared. I rarely get caught off guard. But it doesn’t work everywhere. Especially not with life.

When it comes to personal consumption—food, drink, time, energy, even joy—constantly trying to refill or stay topped off can actually rob me of the experience itself. Instead of enjoying what’s here, I’m focused on what’s going to be gone.

Turning 50 and moving to Italy has shown me how much my thought patterns are changing. I know I retired young. And if I live to be 100, I still have half of my life left. That feels very different from thinking half is gone.

I am seeing this now a lot in the recovery community or in conversations with younger people who feel like they’ve messed everything up. They get stuck in thoughts like: I wasted so much time. I’m behind. I ruined things. That’s half-empty thinking.

But the shift happens when you start looking at what remains instead of what’s gone. You still have time. You can still change direction. You can still create something meaningful with what is ahead of you, whether you are 30, 60, or 90. Why not live the remaining years with purpose and be proud of every minute of it?

I’ve spent much of my life focused on avoiding depletion—refilling before things run low, staying ahead, making sure nothing runs out. That mindset can be useful in some areas, but it has also robbed me of presence and joy because I was hyper-focused on what was disappearing instead of appreciating what remains.

The Hugo Spritz ended up being a reminder. Half empty doesn’t always mean lacking. It can also mean there is still plenty left.

Maybe the better question isn’t what’s gone. Maybe the better question is what remains, and whether we can appreciate it before reaching for more or mourning what was lost.

So I sat there and enjoyed the remainder of this Hugo Spritz slowly, savoring it and reminding myself that I still had half left. And when I reached the end, I didn’t want more. It was just right. It was enough.

Italy Has More to Offer than Hilltop Towns and Great Cities

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

By Daren & Esterina Anderson.

This week Daren and I are both contributing a little something to the Travelouge.

Pinch Me

by Esterina

Yesterday morning was Saturday. Even though we’re no longer working a traditional schedule, we’re still living by—and honoring (and honestly loving)—the rhythm of weekdays and weekends. Daren was making breakfast while I was cutting up fruit when I noticed we had quite a few oranges. On a whim, I squeezed a few and made fresh orange juice. Back home, we’d occasionally have extra oranges, and I’d always think about doing something like that, but it somehow felt like there was never enough time.

It took all of a few minutes. Standing there, I found myself wondering why we hadn’t lived like this before. And then I had one of those “pinch me” moments—realizing once again that I’m living a life I always wanted to live.

This week was full of those moments! We took a short midweek trip to see the lentil flower fields in bloom. Daren will share more about that below, but I want to say how deeply lucky and grateful I felt.

First, because there are so many fewer crowds during the week, and our schedules now allow us to take advantage of that. Second, because we live close enough to experience places like this without needing a major trip. But most importantly, because our lives are so much less hectic now, I am far more present and aware while we’re actually living these moments.

The places we saw this week were breathtaking—fields of flowers stretching beneath mountains that made me feel small and humble in the most beautiful way. Simple lunches. Healthy breakfasts. Enough sleep every night. I’ve never felt healthier or more blessed.

As we navigate this year, we’ve been doing a lot of spiritual reading and having long conversations about how we want to spend the next phase of our lives. I think we both sensed that we needed to step away from our old lives for a while in order to better understand how to become the best versions of ourselves—and how to leave the world a little better than we found it.

Our conversations can range from grand ideas—like giving up every worldly possession and embracing a Francis of Assisi path—to quieter ones, like the life of Dorothea in Middlemarch, where unsung goodness, ordinary kindness, and simple acts of love become their own meaningful legacy.

What I know for certain is this: I want to hold onto beauty, presence, and these little “pinch me” moments. They remind me that I’m living a purposeful life—one where even something as simple as an extra orange doesn’t go to waste, but instead becomes part of the beauty of an ordinary morning.

Take my breath away:

by Daren

I think we both needed to be pinched as we beheld for the first time the Piana di Castelluccio (Plain of Castelluccio). We stood in silence for a moment, staring out over stunning landscape unlike anything we had seen before in Italy. This Italian adventure has been filled with so many stunning and memorable sights, but our trip to the Piana was something different. Much of the grandeur of Italy comes from a blending of natural and human achievement: a walled city perched high above a green valley dotted with cypress trees, or a small town clinging to a ledge overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The Altopiano was all about nature—a place high above the tree line in the central mountains of the Apennines, where rugged rocky outcroppings and miles of flat green plains meet an endless blue sky.

Yet even here, people have left their mark on the landscape. As we descended from the mountain pass onto the plain, we first noticed a distant sheen of yellow, followed by patches of blue and red. As we got closer, we could see clearly demarcated fields forming a patchwork of colors, almost like a quilt. These were the famed lentil fields of the high plain, and we had arrived just as the flowers were beginning to bloom.

Before this trip, I knew very little about where lentils come from and had no idea the plants produced such delicate flowers. These tiny blooms, spread across thousands of acres of the Piana, create a natural spectacle that relatively few people outside Italy know about. I learned of them through my Coffee Break Italian podcast. One of the early lessons featured an Italian teacher describing the lentil blooms of this little-known region, and I added it to my mental list of places to visit. Since the blooms are at their peak in June and early July, we decided this was the perfect time to see them for ourselves.

We learned that the nearby town of Norcia would make a good base and set out for a two-day visit. Norcia is only about three and a half hours from our home in Gaville, and we stopped in Spoleto along the way after hearing it was worth a visit. We had a sandwich in the piazza overlooking the cathedral and wandered the old streets for a while, but the town felt dreary and dead. Perhaps we caught it on an off day, but it felt tired. The truly terrible sandwiches didn’t help. We moved on.

Norcia, where we stayed for two nights, was a different story entirely. It sits near the geographic center of Italy, where Umbria, Abruzzo, and Le Marche come together. Many Italian towns are famous for a particular product: Modena for balsamic vinegar, Genoa for pesto, Parma for Parmesan cheese, and Norcia, as we soon learned, for norcineria—the art of producing cured meats. Prosciutto di Norcia and a host of other types of cured meat, are considered among the finest in Italy.

We also learned that Norcia was devastated by a major earthquake in 2016, and nearly ten years later the city remains an enormous construction site. Much of it has been lovingly restored, including the cathedral, city walls, gates, and main street. Yet many buildings remain wrapped in scaffolding, and piles of rubble and vacant lots still mark places where structures once stood, a reminder of the destruction that transformed this beautiful town.

Despite the construction, Norcia felt vibrant and welcoming. Perhaps it was the reconstruction effort itself, but the town seemed full of energy and optimism. The main piazza shone brightly with white stone buildings, and there were very few tourists. Every other storefront seemed to be a norcineria, selling cured meats, truffle products, and local pecorino cheese. Beyond a handful of restaurants and cafés there wasn’t much else, but it proved to be the perfect base for exploring the region.

We stayed in a lovely hotel right in the center of town, home to the Michelin-starred restaurant Vespasia, where we enjoyed—one of us more than the other—a multi-course tasting menu. These dinners are designed to unfold slowly, with each course presenting a creative combination of flavors, textures, and colors. Since dinner starts late in Italy, we ate well into the evening and bumped against our usual bedtime, leaving us tired and stuffed—a poor combination for a good night’s sleep. The bill took our breath away, and by the end of the evening I think we both concluded that Michelin-starred dining is not for us, especially if dinner begins at eight o’clock at night.

The next morning we packed a picnic of fruit, cheese, bread, olives, yogurt, and local cured meats and headed for the Piana di Castelluccio. The road wound back and forth into the mountains outside Norcia. It felt as though we were ascending into the sky. Then, as the road bent sharply north, the entire Piana suddenly unfolded before us. The landscape seemed impossibly vast: green plains stretching to the horizon, framed by steep mountain walls and an endless blue sky. We were above the tree line, and all we could see were green fields extending for miles in every direction.

As we descended onto the plain, we began noticing well-marked walking trails inviting visitors out into the fields. Koji was extremely enthusiastic about this idea, so we parked the car and started walking. Over the course of the morning, we stopped in several locations to explore the fields and admire the wildflowers in full bloom. At one point, I experienced a moment of genuine, spiritual awe. Standing alone in a field of blue, red, purple, and yellow flowers, I suddenly found myself surrounded by pale blue moths with spotted wings fluttering around me. Several landed gently on my shoes and pant legs. The soft colors of the flowers and the moths added flashes of color to the green canvas of the plain, creating an impression I will not soon forget.

Far in the distance we could see a town perched on a hill overlooking the plain. This was Castelluccio, the center of lentil farming in the area. As we approached, it became apparent that much of the town remained in ruins. Castelluccio had been devastated by the same earthquake that struck Norcia, and reconstruction here appears to be progressing much more slowly. The residents have created a temporary village just outside the historic town consisting of cafés, norcineria, and small farm stands selling lentils and other local products, including one of the best pecorino cheeses I have tasted in Italy. We stopped for coffee and a snack before taking one final walk onto the plain.

From a distance, the landscape around the town appears as a patchwork of colored fields. Some are pale yellow, while others appear purple, white, blue, or red. As we got closer, we could see the flowers responsible for these different palettes. Some fields were planted with lentils, while others were filled with wildflowers in bloom. The lentil flowers created subtle washes of yellow when viewed across great distances. Other fields were dominated by brilliant blue cornflowers mixed with red poppies. Some parcels were left fallow. Viewed from afar, the entire plain resembled a giant quilt stitched together from green, yellow, blue, and red fabric.

We enjoyed our picnic just off the road overlooking the fields before continuing to Forca di Presta, a high mountain pass just across the border in the region of Le Marche. Beyond the pass, the landscape changed again. High craggy peaks gave way to steep valleys, and the region of Le Marche stretched before us toward the Adriatic Sea in the east.

There was also a street food vendor selling stuffed olives, a specialty of Le Marche that we had first learned about from Stanley Tucci’s television series on Italian food and regional culture—a show I highly recommend. Naturally, we had to try them. They did not disappoint.

As we were enjoying the olives, a large flock of sheep passed by under the supervision of a shepherd and three sheepdogs, their bells clanging softly in the mountain air. Koji got to discuss work with one of the dogs and learn about life as an Italian working dog. Actually, they mostly sniffed each other for a few seconds and then moved on.

We spent nearly the entire day walking through fields, with Koji running happily ahead and the two of us simply enjoying the colors, the vistas, and the pure mountain air. Our eyes constantly shifted between distant beauty and close-up beauty: towering mountains, blue skies, and endless plains on one hand; delicate wildflowers and colorful moths on the other.

Back in Norcia, we enjoyed a light dinner and a good night’s sleep before heading home the next morning. This journey felt different from many of our previous Italian adventures. There were no great museums, famous churches, or remarkable works of architecture. Instead, the memories we carried home were of open space, wildflowers, mountain air, and a landscape that seemed almost impossibly vast. As we plan our upcoming trip to the Italian Alps, we are hoping for more moments like this—places that remind us how much beauty exists beyond Italy’s celebrated cities and towns.

Spoleto & Town of Norcia

Scenic view of a picturesque Italian village featuring stone houses with tiled roofs, surrounded by lush greenery and rolling hills under a clear blue sky.
An ancient amphitheater surrounded by greenery, with modern scaffolding for renovations, under a clear blue sky.
A shop display featuring taxidermy boar heads mounted on wooden plaques, with multiple wooden signs advertising various types of salami and cured meats, including prices in euros. Baskets of products are also visible in the foreground.
A man with glasses is interacting with a shopkeeper in a rustic store filled with various food products. A black dog is standing next to the man, observing the scene. The store features wooden shelves, trophies, and decorative items.
Front view of the Teatro Civico building featuring a pink facade, decorative elements, and a blue sky.
A monument featuring a soldier statue stands in a town square surrounded by buildings and greenery, with mountains in the background and a construction crane in the distance.
A man walking down a picturesque street lined with shops and cafes, with a historic archway and green hills in the background under a clear blue sky.
Historic buildings in a town square, featuring a bell tower and a church with a large rose window under a blue sky.
A man in a gray polo shirt stands next to a black dog on a stone pathway, with an ancient stone wall in the background.
Exterior view of a norcineria shop with a boar's head mounted above the entrance, featuring colorful chairs outside and a customer browsing inside.
A man standing outside a butcher shop named 'Norcinera Ansisini Maistro Peppe' with a black dog at his feet, next to a decorative boar statue surrounded by greenery.
Narrow cobblestone street lined with a beige building, featuring bicycles parked against the wall and flower pots hanging from windows.
Historic archway with a clock, leading to a tree-lined path, flanked by buildings on either side.
Archway entrance with the inscription 'VETVSTA NVRIA' surrounded by beige stone walls and decorative elements, leading into a street with various traffic signs.
An artistic presentation of gourmet breads and snacks, including green tea cakes, soft buns, and decorative rice crackers arranged on wooden serving trays.

Castelluccio di Norcia and Surrounding Area

A man stands on a grassy hillside with a black dog beside him, under a clear blue sky.
A scenic view of a winding road leading down a hillside, surrounded by lush green grass and mountains under a blue sky with clouds.
A smiling woman with long brown hair wearing sunglasses and a blue scarf, standing in a grassy field under a clear blue sky.
A black dog walking on a grassy path in an open field with rolling green hills and blue sky.
Wooden directional sign pointing towards Inghiotitito (Plan Grande) and Castelluccio, with distances indicated in kilometers, set against a scenic backdrop of mountains and a blue sky.
A vibrant meadow filled with various wildflowers, including daisies and purple blooms, with lush green grass and rolling mountains in the background under a blue sky with fluffy white clouds.
A picturesque landscape featuring rolling green hills and a distant village nestled among mountains, with a vibrant field of red and yellow flowers in the foreground under a blue sky with fluffy clouds.
A scenic landscape featuring a vibrant field of wildflowers in red, yellow, and blue, set against lush green hills and a distant village perched atop a hill under a partly cloudy sky.
A black dog walking down a grassy path surrounded by rolling green hills under a blue sky with fluffy white clouds.
A scenic landscape featuring a variety of wildflowers, including red and yellow, with a barn in the foreground and rolling green hills in the background.
A scenic landscape featuring rolling hills with lush green grass, patterned fields in various shades of green and brown, and a bright blue sky adorned with fluffy white clouds.
A vibrant field of red poppies with scattered wildflowers and green grass under bright sunlight.
A construction site featuring a tall crane under a bright sun and blue sky, with white clouds. In the foreground, there are market stalls with canopies and chairs, set against a backdrop of mountainous terrain and newly built structures.
A rustic stone building with a wooden sign and decorative elements, featuring an entrance with a menu board and potted flowers in front.
A rustic building with a colorful mural featuring flowers and the text 'Benvenuti' on its wall. The entrance has a wooden door labeled 'Proloco Castelluccio.' Nearby equipment and parking vehicles are visible under a partly cloudy sky.
A picturesque view of a stone building with decorative windows and a small outdoor seating area, surrounded by greenery and a cloudy blue sky.
A scenic view of a small village nestled in a green valley, surrounded by hills and trees under a partly cloudy sky.
A busy outdoor area with tents and vendors, featuring two people conversing in the foreground, motorcycles parked nearby, and a construction site with a crane and buildings under development in the background, set against a mountainous landscape with blue skies.
A wooden signpost with directional arrows in a green meadow, surrounded by rolling hills and a bright blue sky with fluffy clouds.
A woman wearing sunglasses smiling for a selfie in a colorful flower field with a black dog beside her, under a blue sky with fluffy white clouds.
A vibrant wildflower meadow featuring bright red poppies, blue cornflowers, and white daisies among lush green grass.
A scenic view of rolling hills with a small village on top, surrounded by green fields and a colorful wildflower meadow in the foreground.
A vibrant landscape featuring rolling green hills under a bright blue sky with fluffy white clouds, adorned with colorful fields of wildflowers in yellow and purple. A distant farm and a few vehicles are visible in the foreground.
A lush green landscape featuring vibrant red flowers in the foreground, with a large, grassy mountain in the background under a partly cloudy blue sky.
A scenic view of a small village on a hilltop surrounded by green mountains, with a vibrant field of red poppies in the foreground under a partly cloudy sky.
A couple sitting in a colorful wildflower field alongside their black dog, with mountains and blue sky in the background.
A woman sitting on a colorful picnic blanket next to a black dog, with a cooler nearby. A road with grass and roadside signs is visible in the background.
A panoramic view of rolling green hills and mountains under a blue sky with scattered clouds.
Panoramic view of green mountains under a blue sky with scattered clouds.
A scenic view of a winding road leading towards a lush green mountain under a partly cloudy sky.
Wooden sign showing 'Forca di Presta 1542 m' at a scenic location, with parked cars and grassy area in the background.
A hand holding a bitten piece of fried food with a mountainous landscape in the background.
A flock of sheep grazing on a grassy hillside under a partly cloudy sky.

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To see a short video of this trip, check it out on YouTube here: https://youtu.be/HPgJvQzDDU4?feature=shared

Reflections on Cinque Terre and an Unexpected Find

Posted on by Esterina Anderson

by Daren Anderson

There is a place in Italy where mountains plunge straight into the sea and colorful villages cling to cliffs and tiny coves along the shoreline. Houses painted in shades of yellow, orange, and ochre cling to cliffs over the water. Above them, terraced vineyards and olive groves produce crisp local white wines and flavorful olive oil. There are five towns in all—Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza, and Monterosso al Mare. Together they comprise Cinque Terre (Five Lands), one of the most stunning and scenic places in Italy. If you’ve ever seen a screensaver or postcard featuring a picturesque Italian seaside village, chances are it was depicting one of these five special towns.

Hoping to see Cinque Terre before summer tourist season was in full swing, we headed to Liguria, the coastal region we have come to love. Here you’ll find the fabled Italian Riviera, the great port city of Genoa (the birthplace of Christopher Columbus) and, of course, Cinque Terre.

The towns of Cinque Terre were, in days past, reachable only by water, leaving them isolated and heavily dependent on the sea for food and transportation. Today, a train line runs straight through the mountains and emerges at a station in each of the five towns, making a visit remarkably convenient. Travelers can easily move from town to town by train or arrive from one of the many nearby cities and villages outside the region.

In addition, a well-maintained network of hiking trails connects the towns and provides an opportunity to walk along the cliffs, through terraced vineyards and olive groves, and enjoy spectacular views of the Mediterranean. These trails are not for the faint of heart or the out of shape. The climbs can be strenuous, although the paths are in excellent condition and exceptionally well-marked.

While we failed spectacularly in our effort to avoid tourists, we were nonetheless completely enchanted by the beauty of the towns and the magic of this special part of Italy. In a year filled with superlatives, Cinque Terre stands out as one of the very best places we have visited, and perhaps our favorite so far.

To experience Cinque Terre, we chose to stay a few miles north of the region in the seaside town of Chiavari. The five towns themselves offer limited and often expensive hotel options. In retrospect, I think we would enjoy staying in one of the villages for a few nights, allowing us to experience the early mornings and evenings before and after the day-tripper crowds descend.

On our first day, we took the train from Chiavari to the southernmost town, Riomaggiore. Koji joined us, and we planned to walk from there to Manarola, having learned that this route was the shortest and easiest. Koji is feeling his years and is probably no longer up for a difficult hike involving steep climbs in the hot sun.

Fortunately for all of us, the path connecting these two towns, known as the Via dell’Amore (Way of Love), was not really a hike at all but rather a beautifully paved walkway high above the sea, offering incredible views without any significant climbing. The sea was rough, and waves exploded against the rocks below us, sending plumes of spray into the air. The constant roar of the surf added to the unforgettable vista and provided some of the best photographs of the trip.

We enjoyed a light lunch in Manarola and spent some time wandering through the town. These villages are difficult to describe. You have to see them. Even photographs struggle to capture their charm and scale. After some gelato and a bit more exploring, we returned to Chiavari to enjoy the hotel pool and a great dinner at the hotel restaurant.

A woman standing near a railing with a scenic view of colorful buildings along a coastal cliff and a bright blue sea.
A black dog sitting on a train, looking out the window, with a colorful collar, next to a blue seat.
A coastal train station with a view of the ocean, featuring a bench on a platform with yellow markings and a small shelter. Lush greenery and a rocky cliff are visible in the background under a blue sky.
Entrance of the Cinque Terre National Park visitor center, featuring a colorful facade and information signs.
Colorful ceramic tiles arranged on a wall, featuring various intricate designs, with a sign reading 'Via dell'Amore' in the center. The wall is made of light-colored stone with a gray floor beneath.
A bustling market street in an Italian seaside town, featuring colorful buildings, pedestrians, and a fruit stand.
Narrow pathway lined with colorful boats, leading to a rocky shore by the sea, under a bright blue sky with scattered clouds.
A small grocery store entrance with a striped awning, featuring the sign 'coop 5 TERRE.' There is a display of fresh fruits and vegetables on a metal stand outside.
A black dog standing on a cobblestone path near a flowering tree, with red blossoms in a sunny outdoor setting.
A picturesque coastal view overlooking colorful buildings and lush greenery, with the ocean in the background under a partly cloudy sky.
A scenic view of colorful houses on a hillside against a backdrop of lush green mountains and a blue sky with clouds.
A coastal view featuring a rocky shoreline, lush green hills, and a small town with colorful buildings near the water under a blue sky with scattered clouds.
A person walking a black dog on a paved path near the coast, surrounded by greenery and a blue sky.
A vibrant narrow street scene in a coastal town with colorful buildings and balconies. Many people are walking along the street, some stopping to explore shops. White boats are visible along the sides, and the sky is bright blue with some clouds.
A metal container with the words '5 Terre Gelateria' and 'Sorbetteria' painted on it, topped with a lush green plant. In the background, there are signs advertising gluten-free and vegan crepes.
Colorful buildings on a hillside with a blue sky and boats in the foreground by a marina.
A scenic coastal view featuring colorful buildings on cliffs above rocky shoreline with waves crashing against the rocks.

We had planned this trip around the travel schedule of our good friends Cheryl and Mike, who were spending a week exploring Provence. We arranged to meet them, along with their traveling companions Greg and Suzanne, in Ventimiglia, a Riviera town located right on the French border.

We drove north that morning, passing through Genoa before arriving in Ventimiglia for a leisurely seaside lunch and an enjoyable afternoon with friends from home. The road along the Ligurian coast is a remarkable feat of engineering. At times it felt as though we spent more time in tunnels than out of them. Italy has built an extraordinary network of highways through some very challenging terrain. The drive provided a good demonstrated how dramatically geography has shaped Italy’s history. Mountains separated regions for centuries, helping create the strong regional identities, dialects, and traditions that still define the country today. The vast network of tunnels, highways, and rail lines have been revolutionary in connecting, for the first time in history, these disparate regions and fostering a deeper unity that existed before.

Group of six people smiling together outdoors by the seaside on a sunny day.

Back in Chiavari, we decided to return to Cinque Terre to see a few more of the towns and tackle a more ambitious hike. This time Koji remained at the hotel, and he did not seem particularly disappointed when he learned how strenuous the route would be. He held down the fort and guarded the room from his travel bed while we headed out to the train station.

We began in Monterosso al Mare, the northernmost of the five towns and the only one with a true beach. Our first glimpse featured the classic Italian seaside scene: perfectly arranged rows of colorful umbrellas and hundreds of people enjoying the warm weather from lounge chairs or the water itself.

While it is technically not yet summer, Italy is already warm. Days have been sunny, with temperatures in the 70s and 80s—perfect beach weather.

Monterosso quickly became our favorite of the towns we visited. It featured a beautiful church, narrow winding streets, colorful flowers, and a relaxed atmosphere that encouraged lingering. We spent quite a while exploring before beginning our hike.

The trail out of Monterosso wastes no and immediately starts climbing straight into the hills above town. We ascended for at least an hour, passing through terraced vineyards while taking in views of the Mediterranean far below. There were plenty of fellow hikers on the trail, ample shady spots for rest breaks, and clear signs directing us toward Vernazza, the next town along the coast.

The highlight of the hike comes when Vernazza suddenly appears below you. Hundreds of feet beneath the trail, the village is tucked into a narrow opening between the mountains and the sea, its colorful buildings clustered around a small harbor. A medieval tower overlooks the town, and later in the day we climbed it to enjoy yet another remarkable perspective on the coastline.

We had a mediocre pizza for lunch—proof that there is bad food everywhere, even in Italy. Food was not the highlight of our visit. In heavily touristed destinations like these, finding an exceptional meal can sometimes be difficult. Restaurants catering primarily to tourists do not always meet our increasingly finicky standards.

Even so, despite the crowds and the dozens of languages we heard around us, including plenty of American English, we thoroughly enjoyed both the towns and the region. We will undoubtedly return, perhaps a little farther outside the high season next time.

A sign requesting people to feed homeless and unloved cats using food from a nearby container. The sign is written in both Italian and English.
A scenic view of a colorful coastal village surrounded by hills and trees, with a small beach area and boats in the turquoise water below.
A stone pathway leading down to a blue sea dotted with boats, surrounded by lush greenery and flowers.
Panoramic view of a coastal village with colorful buildings by the water, featuring a sandy beach, boats in the turquoise sea, and a clear blue sky.
Narrow street lined with colorful buildings in a quaint village, featuring plants and tourists walking.
A historic clock tower with a dome and decorative tiles, surrounded by greenery and mountains under a clear blue sky.
A stone tower surrounded by greenery, with steps leading up to it and a clear blue sky in the background.
View looking up a spiral staircase inside a stone tower, featuring metal steps and a central support pole.
A panoramic view of a coastal town with colorful buildings nestled along the shore, surrounded by lush green hills and a clear blue sky.
Narrow alleyway between colorful buildings with laundry hanging between them and a clear blue sky above.
A narrow cobblestone street lined with colorful buildings and vibrant flowers, featuring a woman in casual attire posing confidently in the foreground, while tourists stroll in the background.
A vibrant street scene lined with colorful flowers and plants, featuring pink and orange blooms, rustic pots, and a sunny atmosphere. Shoppers can be seen browsing clothing stalls along the pathway.
A man and a woman taking a selfie on a hiking trail with a scenic ocean view in the background. The woman has curly hair and is wearing sunglasses, while the man is wearing a cap and sunglasses.
A wooden sign for a restaurant named 'Lapo S' located in Monterosso, Cinque Terre, displaying rustic design and wheels.
A scenic beach view featuring two large rock formations, with people swimming in the turquoise water, colorful umbrellas lined on the shore, and boats in the background against a partly cloudy sky.
A charming outdoor setting featuring a wooden bench in front of a flower display with colorful blooms on shelves, and a pizzeria sign above, creating an inviting atmosphere.
A narrow cobblestone alleyway lined with vibrant flowers and greenery, featuring a decorative white chair with a red and white striped pattern.
A view of two striped buildings in a narrow alley, with a group of people gathered in front. One building features ornate architectural details, while the other has a simpler design. The sky is clear and blue.
A person stands on a path with a railing, overlooking a scenic coastal view featuring a beach, colorful buildings, and lush hills in the background.
Wooden directional signs on a stone wall indicating the distance to Vernazza and Monterosso.

I cannot end this blog without talking about Chiavari, which somewhat unexpectedly has earned a place on our short list of favorite towns in Italy.

We selected Chiavari simply because of its proximity to Cinque Terre and because we found an attractive hotel at a reasonable price. What we discovered was a gorgeous and authentic town featuring a seaside promenade, fountains, parks, a beautiful piazza, rocky beaches, a marina, and miles of elegant porticos.

We knew almost nothing about the town before arriving and spent many hours wandering its streets and stumbling upon beautiful surprises. The town was clean, well maintained, and refreshingly authentic. There were relatively few foreign tourists. Instead, the streets and promenades were filled with Italian families, babies, teenagers, parents, grandparents, and people with disabilities, all sharing public spaces together. We saw circles of teenagers chatting on the beach. Groups of elderly gathered on park benches together, families with strollers, and dogs everywhere. There were small dogs, large dogs, elderly dogs, puppies, all walking, running, sniffing, tugging, and occasionally barking. Hands down this was the most dog-friendly town we’ve seen in a country that is renowned for its dog-friendliness.

The combination of such a rich mix of people, a lovely and well-kept city, and a relaxed seaside atmosphere created a great sense of energy and vibrancy. Chiavari felt alive in the best possible way.

A scenic view of a marina filled with sailboats and yachts, surrounded by buildings and mountains under a partly cloudy sky.
View of a marina at sunset with numerous boats and yachts, a person leaning on a railing, and mountains in the background.
A couple stands on a seaside promenade, smiling for a selfie. The woman has long hair and sunglasses, while the man wears a t-shirt and glasses. Behind them is a pebbly beach with people and buildings along the coastline under a partly cloudy sky.
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View of a beach with blue umbrellas and lounge chairs set up on pebbly shore, with a calm sea and cloudy sky in the background.
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A beach scene with colorful red and yellow umbrellas set up over lounge chairs, along a pebbled shore with gentle waves lapping at the waterline and yachts visible in the distance.
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A dock with striped blue and white boats, featuring a visible Italian flag, and a scenic view of the water and harbor in the background.
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A person walking a black dog along a waterfront promenade with cloudy skies in the background.
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Evening view of a coastal promenade with striped beach umbrellas and a Mexican flag, under a cloudy sky.
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A circular window frame embellished with vibrant purple bougainvillea flowers against a textured white wall.
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A picturesque street view featuring colorful buildings, with a focus on a pink church dome in the background. Motorcycles are parked along the cobblestone street, and outdoor cafes with red umbrellas line the area.
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A scenic square in Chiavari, Italy, featuring a decorative fountain, a statue, and colorful historic buildings. People are gathered around, and there are flowers and greenery in the foreground.
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A winding pathway bordered by a wrought iron fence, leading towards a terraced garden with lush greenery and tall palm trees in the background, showcasing a scenic architectural structure.
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A street view of a charming Italian square lined with colorful buildings, outdoor cafes, and trees, with a glimpse of the sea in the background under a pastel sunset sky.
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A serene pathway lined with flowering plants and a green fence, under a clear blue sky adorned with distant purple blooms from trees.
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A bowl of mixed fruit including melon, kiwi, and cantaloupe on a table, with a view of the sea and cloudy sky in the background.
A beachside view at sunset, featuring lounge chairs with blue umbrellas lined up on the pebble shore, a calm sea, and distant mountains under a pastel sky.

As always seems to happen with places we love, our days in Liguria passed far too quickly. We returned home with sore feet, hundreds of photographs, and a growing conviction that Liguria may be our favorite region of Italy. We came for Cinque Terre, but in some ways it was Chiavari, the unexpected discovery, that lingered most in our minds.

Either way, we’ll be back!

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