Italy Travel – esterinaanderson.com

Two Days in Matera

Posted on 08/12/2026 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-

Murder, Passion, and Lucca: an Italian Opera Weekend

Posted on 08/02/2026 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 15^th 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 07/28/2026 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!

Reflections on Cinque Terre and an Unexpected Find

Posted on 06/14/202606/14/2026 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.

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.

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. — Screenshot

View of a marina at sunset with numerous boats and yachts, a person leaning on a railing, and mountains in the background. — Screenshot

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!

Talk to us – add a comment, email/text… we’d love to hear from you too!

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A Two-Week Tour of Southern Italy

Posted on 05/02/202606/07/2026 by Esterina Anderson

By Daren & Esterina Anderson

We’ve just returned from a two-week swing through southern Italy and have plenty of reflections to share. Our itinerary included some of the country’s most iconic destinations—Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast—as well as lesser-known areas in Calabria, including Tropea and the region around Crotone.

We knew there was a North/South divide in Italy before this trip—but only because we had started looking into it when we were planning our move. Before that, it really wasn’t something we understood or thought much about, despite having been here, watching movies about Italy, and knowing plenty of people with Italian roots. What we didn’t realize is that it’s not exactly something people talk about openly here.

It seems to fall into that category of topics that carry some weight. Not necessarily hidden, but not casually discussed either. And that makes sense, given how much history—and reality—is tied up in it. At the same time, if we didn’t really understand it until recently, we’re guessing a lot of our family and friends don’t either. So we’re going to share what we’re learning!

Part of the reason this divide isn’t widely understood—especially from an American perspective—is because, from the outside, Italy is presented as one cohesive, romantic place. And if you’re just visiting, that’s how it feels. Most trips hit the same highlights—Rome, Florence, Venice, the Amalfi Coast. They’re all beautiful, welcoming, and very used to tourists. It ends up feeling like one seamless experience rather than a collection of very different regions. The deeper differences—economic, cultural, even linguistic—aren’t obvious on a short trip.

Then there’s the version of “Italian culture” many of us grew up with in the U.S., which was largely shaped by Southern Italian immigrants. Over time, that became its own blended identity—food, language, energy, traditions—and it’s easy to assume that’s what all of Italy feels like.

But it’s not that simple. The divide here isn’t dramatic or immediately visible. You can be in both the north and the south and still see stunning towns, have incredible food, and enjoy everyday Italian life. The differences show up more subtly—in how things function, in opportunities, in infrastructure, and in the pace and tone of daily life.

A lot of this traces back to history that most of us were never really taught. Italy only became a unified country in 1861. Before that, it was a collection of separate regions, and they didn’t all develop in the same way. The north industrialized more quickly, while the south faced longer-term economic challenges.

We also tend to generalize countries a bit. We’re used to thinking in big terms. But Italy is incredibly regional—it’s almost like visiting very different parts of the U.S. and calling it all the same experience.

Before we made the move to Italy, we watched a documentary on Italian immigration patterns. It wasn’t until then that we realized that almost all the Italians we knew in the U.S. just happened to have roots from the Naples area, Sicily, and Calabria. It always felt like a coincidence—one of those things you hardly notice so never question. But it’s not a coincidence at all.

We learned the earliest large waves of Italian emigration began in the late 1800s—roughly the 1870s through the early 1900s. At that time, many of the immigrants leaving Italy were from the northern regions, like Piedmont, Veneto, and Lombardy. Many went to South America, particularly Argentina and Brazil, where there was a strong demand for labor and a culture that, in many ways, felt more familiar. But over time the trend changed.

Northern Italy started to industrialize and become more economically stable, while the southern regions—areas like Campania (Naples), Calabria, and Sicily—faced deeper, more systemic poverty and fewer opportunities.

By the late 1800s into the early 1900s, it was southern Italians who began leaving in large numbers. Many still went to South America—again to places like Argentina, Brazil, and Uruguay—but by then those regions were becoming saturated with immigrants. Again the migration patterns changed.

This is when large numbers of Italians began immigrating to North America, particularly between about 1880 and 1920. They came to cities like New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Chicago, settling into tight-knit communities that many of us still recognize today.

However, unlike earlier migrations, they weren’t always welcomed. Southern Italians, in particular, faced significant discrimination and had to work incredibly hard, often in difficult conditions, to build a life here. Over time, though, they did what immigrants always do—built communities, held onto their traditions, adapted where they needed to, and slowly became part of the fabric of the country.

And so, somewhere along the way, that became the version of “Italian” that many of us grew up with. The food, the energy, the family dynamics—the pizza, the pasta, the loud kitchens and big tables. It’s such a strong and beautiful culture. But it’s also just one part of a much bigger, more complex story.

When you step back and look at Italy overall, you can start to see how all of this may have shaped the divide that still exists today. Entire generations left the south in search of opportunity, while the north continued to industrialize and build wealth. Over time, that created two very different realities within the same country—something that doesn’t just disappear, even after more than a century.

This divide is rooted in history, geography, and economics. Exploring it could easily fill its own blog post, but it’s worth noting that southern Italy is generally less affluent, less developed, and less urbanized than the north, with distinct cultural differences.

What it may lack in infrastructure, however, it more than makes up for—with dramatic scenery, stunning coastlines, rugged mountains, exceptional food, and deep historical roots… most of which we’re only just beginning to explore.

An artistic arrangement featuring a wooden map of Italy, surrounded by traditional Italian dishes such as pasta, risotto, pesto, and fresh tomatoes, set against a backdrop of red, white, and green wooden planks, symbolizing the Italian flag.

So enough on this history lesson & let us tell you about our trip!

Southern Italy

Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast

Our trip began in Sorrento, often considered the gateway to the Amalfi Coast. Perched on a peninsula just south of Naples, Sorrento sits in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius, whose looming presence feels especially ominous if you’re familiar with the story of Pompeii.

Reaching Sorrento involves driving through Naples and then through a series of long tunnels cut through the mountains. Our first impression wasn’t especially favorable: heavy traffic, tight roads, and a seemingly endless swarm of scooters operating by their own unwritten rules. They zipped past us on both sides—even crossing into oncoming traffic on narrow two-lane roads—creating a constant, buzzing chaos that made the drive more stressful than scenic.

After one night in a disappointing rental, we relocated to a comfortable hotel just outside of town. Over the next few days, our impressions improved. We found spots to take in the stunning clifftop views over the Bay of Naples and toward the island of Ischia, enjoyed a few excellent meals, and spent time relaxing by the pool.

Sorrento itself is undeniably touristy. Even in mid-April, the streets were crowded with tour groups, and the narrow shopping lanes were often packed.

One unmistakable theme of the region is lemons. They are everywhere—growing in groves tucked into backyards and terraced along steep hillsides. Many trees are covered with wooden frames and green netting to protect them from the elements. In town, lemon motifs appear on everything from clothing to ceramics to linens. And Esterina just had to buy a pair of lemon pants that she is wearing every few days now.

We took two successive day trips to the Amalfi coast starting with Positano, the first major town on the Amalfi Coast when traveling west to east. The drive alone was unforgettable: narrow, winding roads climbing over mountains before descending toward the sea, with breathtaking views at every turn.

Positano itself is a nearly vertical town cascading down toward the water. It’s undeniably beautiful, though heavily touristed. Still, it charmed us. We had one of the best meals of the trip there—gnocchi and fresh local fish—while Koji rested contentedly under the table. Linen clothing is practically a uniform in the Amalfi towns, and I (Daren) couldn’t resist adding a few pieces to my summer wardrobe.

The beaches here are dark and rocky, shaped by the region’s volcanic origins. Even in April, people were sunbathing and swimming. Koji braved a quick dip; we, lacking swimsuits, did not.

On a second day we came back to see the town of Amalfi itself. While undeniably picturesque from a distance, we found the town smaller, more crowded, and less appealing than Positano. Its narrow spaces felt more congested and shaded, and the density of tourists diminished its charm. In contrast, the journey along the coast—with its dramatic cliffs and buildings perched impossibly above the sea—was the true highlight.

On the way back, we stopped in Maiori, just a few miles away but worlds apart in atmosphere. With a long beach, a relaxed promenade, and far fewer tourists, it felt more authentic. After a leisurely seafood lunch, we spent an hour simply lying on the beach, listening to the waves.

Overall, we left the Amalfi region with mixed feelings. The scenery is undeniably spectacular, but even in shoulder season, the crowds, traffic, and overtourism detract from the experience. It’s hard to imagine what peak summer must be like.

A highlight of our trip was a guided visit to Pompeii which sits between Naples and Sorrento and was easily reached by a ½ hour ride on the regional commuter rail line. With an archaeologist as our guide, the ancient city came vividly to life. Though roofs have largely collapsed under volcanic debris, the layout of streets, buildings, and public spaces remains remarkably intact. We were especially fascinated by the bathhouses, with their distinct hot, warm, and cold rooms, as well as the preserved mosaics and roadways. Our guide’s insights into language—particularly the connection between Latin and modern languages—added an extra layer of interest.

Calabria: Tropea and Beyond

After five days in Sorrento, we headed south to Calabria. The drive itself was a highlight, passing through rolling farmland, green hills, and fields dotted with wildflowers. As we moved farther south, the landscape became more rugged and developed.

Our destination was Tropea, often called the “jewel of Calabria.” Perched atop cliffs overlooking a striking white sand beach, it’s easy to see why. There, we met Esterina’s brother Frank and his girlfriend Mary, who joined us after spending several days in Rome.

Tropea is small but charming, with lots of nice restaurants and a relaxed pace. While still a tourist destination, it felt far more local, with relatively few international visitors. It was beautiful, but a bit rough around the edges. We spent our time enjoying seafood, relaxing on the beach, staying active, and learning about the region’s famous red onions—renowned across Italy for their sweetness and featured prominently in local cuisine.

Family in Crotone

Our final stop was with family in and around Rocca di Neto, near Crotone. As on previous visits, we were welcomed warmly and treated to incredible food and conversation. It was also our best opportunity yet to practice Italian, as few family members speak English.

This visit held special significance: Esterina and Frank brought their father’s remains to be placed in the family mausoleum alongside previous generations.

We spent a day exploring Crotone’s old town and its quiet seaside promenade before gathering for one last family dinner. Crotone, like Tropea, was a mix of historic charm and grittiness. The next morning, we began the long drive back north to Tuscany.

Esterina wrote a lot more about this section of the trip a few days back. You can read about it here: https://esterinaanderson.com/2026/04/26/home-can-be-more-than-a-place/

Final Reflections
Each place we visited had something to offer—and something that didn’t quite land. Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast are undeniably stunning, but also incredibly crowded. Tropea’s beaches are beautiful, but the town itself felt a bit worn, with visible garbage and public spaces that seem overlooked.

But what stayed with us most was the time we spent with family. It was a simple reminder that keeps coming back to us—where you are matters, but who you’re with matters more. And in the end, that’s the part we’ll remember.

Thanks for taking the time to read. We’d love to hear your thoughts!

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Daren’s Perspective: Manifesting a Dream

Posted on 03/17/202603/23/2026 by Esterina Anderson

I’ve had a lot of time recently to reflect on dreams. Not the kind you have while sleeping, but the things we wish for, hope for, and sometimes, if we are lucky, plan for. I’ve been struck by how many people, when they hear about our plans to move to Italy, say that we’re living their dream. It seems that lots of people—including us—have imagined living abroad, and particularly in Italy. And with good reason.

Italy is the land of La Dolce Vita. It’s a place of great food, famous landmarks, incomparable art, and fascinating history. Everyone has seen images of its stunning hillside towns and seaside villages perched on cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean. These images seem to live in our collective consciousness.

Over the past two weeks our own dream became manifest as Esterina and I packed up our home, our dog, my bicycle, five boxes, and six suitcases and moved to Tuscany. We were excited to the point of giddiness as our plane lifted off. But as we arrived and drove into town toward our new home, I have to confess that I felt more than a little trepidation.

As I thought about where this feeling was coming from, I realized that when you act to realize a dream you are taking a big chance and putting yourself at risk. Now the dream has to deliver. What if it doesn’t? What if it’s not everything you imagined? Honestly, how could it be?

In the contemplative stage of creating and sustaining a dream, we build images in our mind’s eye of what that dream will be like. Often those images come from photographs, movies, and social media. Dreams contain the best vision of what we expect to see and experience, but they leave out the more mundane aspects of daily life.

So as we drove up the steep cobblestone street, turned into the driveway and began unpacking boxes, I experienced an odd blending of dream and reality. There was a gorgeous Tuscan vista from our pool, looking out over the hills. From our window we could see small hilltop towns and farms. Roosters crowed, sheep bleated, and everything was in bloom.

Superimposed on this, however, were the practical realities of daily life: learning about recycling and garbage collection; navigating a somewhat gritty town to find the grocery store; figuring out cell phone plans; and simply establishing a routine of sleeping, eating, and dog walking in a new—and very hilly—place.

None of this is to say that dreams don’t live up to their promise. They certainly can. So far, this one is doing pretty well.

A few days ago we took a day trip to San Gimignano, a truly spectacular medieval hilltop walled city. As we walked up the main street toward the piazza, I felt as if I were experiencing exactly the visions I’d imagined from my armchair back in Branford—almost to the point of déjà vu. The city was storybook beautiful and gave the strong impression of transporting us back in time.

This morning we took Koji for a walk down a hill and along a babbling stream in the woods. The air was fresh and the early morning was filled with birdsong.

But I do think that when we dream about something, we exclude the mundane in favor of the sublime. Part of making a dream real involves blending the best of what we’d hoped for with the humdrum elements of everyday life. So far, it’s a heady mix.

So what have we seen and done that has matched—or even exceeded—expectations?

First, Tuscany is truly spectacular in a way that photographs simply can’t capture. The hills are dotted with towns and farms and covered with olive groves and vineyards. The sun and clouds of early spring create an ever-changing play of light and color that transforms the landscape from moment to moment.

Tuscan buildings are colorful—hues of yellow, orange, and brown—highlighted by dark green or brown shutters and brick arches.

The towns themselves are gorgeous. Perched on hilltops and often enclosed by ancient stone walls, each one centers around a piazza with a church and a bell tower that rings out the hours. Everything feels ancient, but beautiful. There is even a slight shabbiness that adds character to the scene. Laundry hanging from windows reminds you that these are not tourist theme parks but real towns where real people live their lives.

And the food really is better.

Whether from the local farmers’ market or the grocery store, everything tastes fresher. I had assumed this might prove to be a cliché, but it’s absolutely true. Yesterday we shopped at a local market and bought fresh onions, artichokes, and tomatoes, along with cheese from a small cheese shop. Even the meat and produce from the grocery store are noticeably more flavorful than what we typically find back in the United States.

We’ve done a lot in two weeks. We are approaching each new day with excitement, grateful for the chance to watch this chapter unfold. We’ll walk the dog, exercise, and cook oatmeal. And we’ll take in the vistas, admire Renaissance art, and enjoy fresh pasta. Perhaps that’s what it really means to live a dream—not escaping ordinary life but discovering that even the ordinary moments are part of it.