Month: March 2015

Italy Travel, Siena, Travel Opinion, Travel: My stories

Suspended in time in Siena, Italy

by Gracefully Global travels • March 26, 2015September 15, 2021

Just as Siena is stuck in time, I wish I could have gotten stuck in time in Siena. Like in Groundhog Day, I want to be living that weekend over and over. But unfortunately it didn’t hit me how special my weekend in Siena was until I was actually gone, so I was not able to inquire as to how to stop time when I still had the chance.
So instead I rely on blogging, so at least we can relive it…together.

I had been wanting to go to Siena for years, and years, as I had heard so many bits and pieces of wonderful travel stories from friends who had been lucky enough to travel there. There’s a great blog called “Just Visit Siena” that I’ve been following for a long time, and I even shared a video about it here on the blog a few years ago. But Siena can be tricky to reach, due to mundane logistical challenges called mountains. Pesky details. An eight hour round trip train ride wasn’t worth it in relation to what I envisioned to be an overnight trip.

But after much anticipation, I finally got to go last April with my boyfriend at the time, who drove us. The approach into Tuscany was undeniable and fit perfectly into the stereotype – the road was smaller, the grass was greener, the sun was brighter, and the soft hills curved into infinity. We parked just outside the city, and walked in with our luggage.

Siena, Italy, cityscape — A chef statue seems to beckon us to enter Siena.

I was a bit worried that I would be disappointed with all of my high expectations about Siena. I mean, at this point, I’ve been to a lot of Italian cities, and I’ve found that many of them are alike, or are not necessarily unforgettable. But I shouldn’t have worried. Siena is a place all its own. Siena is, for lack of the creativity to come up with a better word, gorgeous.

Siena, Italy, church — There is never a dull view in Siena.

There are heart-stopping Tuscan views surprising you constantly, and each perspective is just as memorable (if not more) than the last. And as cliche as it sounds, it is totally true: walking the narrow, winding stone roads feels like it must have hundreds of years ago.

Family, Siena, Italy, streets — A young family walking through the streets of Siena.

Wandering Siena is a constant visual delight, so walk slowly and indulge in reality, which we did as we toted our luggage and stumbled upon hidden courtyards,

Siena, Italy, courtyard, sky — A gorgeous Siena courtyard.

mysterious wells, and other fascinating historical remnants.

Siena, Italy, tourists, wishing well, courtyard — Some tourist boys enjoy a wishing well in a courtyard in Siena, Italy.

We were walking around with our luggage for an extended period of time because we had a small snafu with the hotel we booked on Booking.com. Keep in mind – last minute bookings for Italian hotels via third party booking agents are never a sure thing due to communication challenges, a lack of a customer service initiative, and small hotels. But we found another average, affordable hotel, so the crisis was averted (I never expect much from Italian lodging, but I never have to pay much either). And Booking.com handled the “crisis” well.

Piazza del Campo, Siena, Italy — Piazza del Campo at dusk in Siena.

Our first night in Siena was a bit quieter than either of us are used to, as we weren’t visiting Siena during the high season of their incredibly famous annual Palio Horse Race in July, and we are both used to the nonstop nightlife of Bologna. There is no nightlife in Siena, so it is a good place to practice “early to bed, early to rise.” There are a ton of interesting events, though, so do your research and plan accordingly.

Siena, Italy, Duomo — Tourists photographing the Siena duomo.

We joined the crowds on our first morning just walking and looking, relaxing and people watching the never-ending characters in Piazza del Campo, where the Palio Horse Race takes place (in our case the most entertaining animal was pizza-loving dog),

Piazza del Campo, Siena, Italy, pizza, sun — A family trying to enjoy a pizza lunch in Piazza del Campo and rudely being interrupted by their dog.

checking out the Duomo,

Duomo, Siena, Italy — A different perspective on Siena’s Duomo.

the neighborhoods proudly displaying their flags supporting their horse,

Siena, Italy, Palio horse race — A neighborhood flag proudly displayed in Siena.

the famous Museo Civico, and an occasional unexpected attraction like a tiny church we found full of wonderful art and architecture.

Siena, Italy, street art — Art on the street in Siena

We didn’t do the Duomo tour because it was a bit pricey, but one of my English students highly recommends the tour and I definitely regret not doing it.

It is quite easy to eat well in this city without paying a lot, but it is also easy to eat an overpriced, mediocre meal. We used a phone app, maybe yelp, to help us wade through our lunch options after eating an overpriced meal the night before. We ended up at a modern family-run restaurant perched at the top of a hill at a beautiful outdoor table called Zest Ristorante and Wine Bar.

Siena, Italy, pasta — Lunch in Siena, Italy

The tiny street it was on stretched ahead, sharply curving down and up another hill, nearly giving me vertigo until I was distracted by spotting the special flags for the neighborhood horse flying proudly and colorfully ahead, and my potential vertigo was replaced with a sigh of appreciation for finding myself in this one-of-a-kind place. As I write this, I am remembering for the first time in a long time that I stopped to think and look around me for a moment, giving thanks to the universe to be able to experience this moment. It sounds corny, but Siena really is that special.

Wine, Siena, Italy — More delicious food in Siena

After our amazing lunch, we relaxed again for a bit in Piazza del Campo trying to decide if we had it in us to do the big climb to the top of the Torre del Mangia, the major tower overlooking the piazza that is attached to Palazzo Pubblico, Siena’s City Hall. It cost a bit, and the day was already winding down. But, we decided to go for it.
It was unforgettable. The climb went round and round…the steps were ancient, and we all were forced to cooperate as a group to get to the top.

Torre del Mangia, Siena, Italy — Climbing Torre del Mangia in Siena

But it wasn’t overly strenuous, and there were more than enough stops where we could take a rest and breathe in the amazing Tuscan air.

Torre del Mangia, Siena, Italy, landscape — The beautiful view from Torre del Mangia in Siena

It started raining on the way up, but somehow hiding from the rain and checking out the dramatic storm clouds just added to the drama and adrenaline of the experience.

We finally got to the top, and our reward was a nearly unobstructed 360 degree view of Siena and its surroundings.

Siena, Italy, city, church, landscape — The light was peeking through the clouds and gave us a gorgeous view of Siena.

By the time we got down, we were so elated, there was nothing else we needed to do to improve our weekend. We returned to a small bar, called the San Paolo Pub, with a balcony overlooking the Piazza del Campo smaller than my closet.

The beers were affordable, and how much space do you need to enjoy a view anyway? It was perfect. We sat there for hours. Couples came and went around us. One was “like us” as my boyfriend had said. “Whose English is better, his or mine?” he asked me earnestly, as he recognized the couple next to us was also an Italian guy dating a young American woman.

Piazza del Campo, nighttime, Siena, Italy — Piazza del Campo from our favorite little bar overlooking the square.

It was getting to be that time, but I wasn’t ready to go home. “Let’s go back to the restaurant where we had lunch, please??” I asked him. After all, we hadn’t yet had any of Siena’s famous Chanti. He graciously obliged, and back we went to the same restaurant where we had lunch. The young waitress and the manager, who appeared to be father and daughter, recognized us and greeted us warmly. This is something I love about Italy – people are nice and gracious to you authentically. They were genuinely happy to see us.

Coincidentally, we discovered that the young waitress comes fairly often to the small suburb outside of Bologna where I lived at the time. Apparently she likes a restaurant in my neighborhood (ironically). We talked about where I lived, and that I would be returning to the United States soon. Suddenly, she gave us a worried look. “But what about you guys? What are you going to do, so far away from each other?” she said it in Italian.

Good question, ha! I guess her question could have also been about our trip to Siena. What were we going to do so far away from it? It was just a moment in time, that now I have the vibrant memories from. Hopefully they won’t fade anytime soon. Anyway, most of life is memories, really, isn’t it? What more can I ask for.

American Duomo ex-patriot food Italian Italy Museo Civico Palio Horse Race Piazza del Campo siena Torre del Mangia travel travel advice travel guide travel photography Tuscany wine

Cesenatico, Italy Travel, Travel: My stories

Celebrating the Italian Summer at the Seaside in Cesenatico

by Gracefully Global travels • March 18, 2015September 15, 2021

Italians find themselves at the sea nearly every summer weekend, whether they smartly rent or own a whole beach house, or just a few feet of sand under an umbrella. Having lived in Bologna for years and living as any honorable Italian would do, I joined in the weekend beach-side adventures, fleeing as far as Ancona, but mostly sticking directly East of Bologna in Rimini, Riccione and Ravenna. But mostly Rimini, because it was familiar. As soon as the fan came down off the top shelf of my closet and propped up by my bed, the early Saturday morning train rides to Rimini commenced. So it was fitting that I spent my last weekend in Italy before my big return to the United States relaxing at the Italian seaside lifestyle that had defined my summers there. But this time I didn’t have to wake up early and take the train. Instead, my boyfriend at the time preferred to drive. And he was a different sort of character. He didn’t do things the same way everyone else did. Instead, he suggested we go to the tiny town of Cesenatico. I didn’t have the slightest idea what to expect, but as always, I was up for the adventure.

The canal leading to the sea in Cesenatico, Italy

The non-eventful drive and the parking process played out like all of my other beach adventures. The drive east toward the Adriatic Sea is flat with huge green fields broken up by an occasional ancient structure. As you approach the sea, there are lots of trees shading the streets and houses. I was unsuspecting as we parked in an ugly supermarket parking lot until we emerged onto the main walkway of the village. Stretching before me was a long canal that ran to the sea, flanked by colorful buildings and sporting a long line of cleverly named boats. But these weren’t recreational boats, they were fishing boats. And the canal, apparently, is famous because it was once surveyed by Leonardo da Vinci. Only in Italy.

I was surprised by my surroundings. “Where are we again?” I asked him. I’m bad with proper nouns. “Cesenatico,” he replied. “But this place is so cool – why doesn’t everyone come here?” “I don’t know,” he said. “But that’s why I like it. Not everyone comes here.”

A boy playing on the beach in Cesenatico, Italy

He was right. There were definitely other Italian tourists, but they were mostly families. Instead of walking into a tourist trap, it felt instead like we were stepping into the seaside life of these lucky Italians that call Cesenatico home.

A girl taking a stroll along the beach on her own in Cesenatico, Italy

We walked down the crowded main stretch along the canal, toward the sea. I almost felt like a voyeur, watching all the families and the family dogs enjoying their Saturday. There was even a funky shaped boat that cost one euro that would take you to the other side of the canal if you so desired.

We drifted until we couldn’t walk anymore, to the point at the end of the boardwalk. Fishermen and teens and couples like us trickled around, but nothing overwhelming. Near the boardwalk was a sprawling restaurant with whitewashed walls and tables. We were led to a table in the sand. A family with a toddler playing in the sand sat at the next table. We sat a bit with our drinks, the sight and sounds of the sea releasing our stress, much of which stemmed from my impending departure. “It seems impossible to believe that in a week you will be in New York. From Cesenatico to New York – I can’t imagine a bigger change,” said my traveling companion. I sat and munched my olive and took a sip of prosecco. He was right. At that moment, New York was absolutely worlds away from Cesenatico.

The scene of a small town that looks after itself in Cesenatico, Italy

We eventually found ourselves making our way back up the canal. A pair of sunglasses caught his eye, and as he tried them on I wandered a few steps and discovered a little fair on a tiny side street, so characteristic of Italy. Everywhere I turned this little street was dripping with charm – a candy-cane striped awning and a retro bike, a gelato shop that tempted my traveling companion, and knitted jellyfish hanging from a string tied to streetlights.

I followed the jellyfish hanging from the sky, one by one, to a small, quiet piazza, full of families and a few curious adults, officially stepping over any remaining line between tourist and resident. To my delight, there were nautical-inspired knittings livening up the ancient stone fountain, church, and doorways of the building facing the piazza, to match the hanging jellyfish.

Children played under trees decorated with diamonds and more jellyfish.

With a bit of internet research, I realized I had stumbled upon Cesenatico’s Urban Knitting Group “Il Mare in Conserva,” an installation art exhibit in the Piazzetta delle Conserve.

I was utterly charmed to so unexpectedly wander into this peaceful, simple world. I participated as an outsider, snapping photos of the happy children and cats, until realizing my travel companion had probably finished his gelato by now.

I reluctantly followed the jellyfish back, and found him happy as a clam (no pun intended), taking advantage of his phone’s data plan as the celebrations went on around him.

We made our way back to the car slowly, our departure marking a transition into a much more complicated world, void of knitted jellyfish and children playing jump-rope on the street. It had not been just another beach adventure. It was the end of an era of a naive American girl marveling in the oddities and delights of a beach life so different from my Southern California home. And the beginning of a mysterious something else.

adriatic sea beach bologna cesenatico city community Contemporary art emilia-romagna europe ex-pat ex-patriot guide installation art Italy knittings Photo guide Rimini sea summer travel guide

Elsewhere, Travel Opinion, Travel: My stories

My Life as an Agatha Christie Novel

by Gracefully Global travels • March 5, 2015September 15, 2021

These contrasting black and white words in front of you were written and rewritten a million times in those unpredictable moments of reflection that inevitably sneak up on me while on or en route to public transportation, or just sitting alone in general, wherever I happen to be. But until now, the words never made it on paper (well, actually, my iPhone notepad) because the more time passed, the harder it was to come back to you guys. Thankfully, a recent conversation with an old friend finally gave me the inspiration I needed.

You see, I’m back in America now. Since last May – May 18th, to be exact. I’ve gone from Bologna to New York, and finally, back to San Diego. And this is my first blog post since returning to the United States. Let’s just say it has been a long few months. The good news is I’ve traded in my exotic travels for the chance to finally be able to enjoy my old friends and family. They are the highlight of being “back.” Being able to say “we knew each other when” is a luxury that I’m loving indulging in.

Peggy-Janet — My first “selfie” after returning to the United States from Italy. I met my wonderful friend and host, Janet, at work at MOMA in New York.

On one such visit recently with an old college friend in Las Vegas, my friend said offhandedly: “Boy, you sure do have a lot of stories.” I don’t remember which story in particular inspired his remark. Possibly it was the one involving the sombrero and the bus (definitely a crowd-pleaser). We were standing in the living room of his beautiful home, and I stopped and took in what he said, agreeing. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Believe it or not, I’d never thought about it. But his point was true. As his house was growing, my luggage was shrinking, but my ability to entertain groups of acquaintances at cocktail parties was growing exponentially.
The conversation awakened my deep-rooted pangs for a more “normal” life. Getting older and acquiring more stuff of increasing value feels like the expected life progression. My annual trips back home to the U.S. used to make it easy to spot the transitions that my friends, family, and colleagues were going through. With a few exceptions, I noticed their gains in weight, wealth, and family clearly, since I missed the gradual daily changes.

My life path has been a bit different. So far, I’ve spent all of my 30s on the road. Instead of engagement parties, I’ve had tearful goodbyes in Milan with my now ex-boyfriend. Instead of Christmas with my family, I’ve lived (as my father said), an Agatha Christie novel of hopping from Venice and, in the same week, ending up in Paris during the terrorist attacks. Instead of settling down and enjoying home ownership, I have memories of frantically signing the final documents to sell my condo, located in San Diego, at 5pm on December 31st while sitting on the floor of a mall in Budapest using their wi-fi with my laptop and having a mall security guard yelling at me indecipherably in Hungarian to – I’m guessing here – get out.
I have managed to spread my friends and possessions across the globe, giving the illusion of less friends and less possessions. No gaining weight, wealth, or family for me. On the bright side, I save on gym membership. And wealth, as they say, is relative. It just depends on what we each want and need, right? But what is that, exactly? Wouldn’t it be nice to know.

Being home and attending the baby showers and weddings and funerals that I normally glimpse from afar via Facebook makes me wonder when my next milestone will be. Or if there will even be a next milestone in the foreseeable future. I am struggling to regain my footing in my own country. But, as a good friend of mine reminds me, so is she, and she never left.

Somehow, holding onto my traveling ways gives me a sense of stability. I still live out of a suitcase because, oddly (or not so oddly?), I’m more comfortable that way. My most important possessions include my pink LL Bean travel toiletry case that my dad bought me when I was 25 and I scoffed at, naïvely unaware of the future that awaited me. My second and third most important possessions are my laptop computer that my computer nerd ex-boyfriend bought me in 2008, and a small stuffed toy that once belonged to my old dog. And the rest of my “prized possessions” are wound up somewhere between my heart and my head – memories of friends, of things I used to have, and memories of experiences. A lot…of memories.

El-Centro3 — Relaxing in my hometown, El Centro, CA.

Not what I expected I would be using to measure my life by at this point. But in those inevitable moments of doubt and loss of perspective, I force myself back to a moment ten years ago when I was overhearing a colleague on the phone with a travel agent planning her second vacation to Italy with her husband. While I sat at my computer at the next desk, I clearly remember thinking to myself, “Oh, that will never be me. I’ll never be lucky enough to visit Italy.”
Ironically, I never doubted my impending milestones back then – it was the vacation to Italy that seemed unattainable. Well, it is true. I wasn’t lucky enough to visit Italy. Instead, I was lucky enough to make a life there. But I wish I had never taken the normal stuff for granted.

I should just start creating my own weird “milestones” to quench my need to measure my life in a more mathematical way. I’m wondering how Hallmark might handle the increased demand for cards for non-traditional life events. But I can rest assured my friends will know how to help me celebrate, even if they can’t find a card for it.
The good news is, I have enough material to keep you all entertained on this blog for a very long time. And I’m lucky to be a part of this blogging community, full of other adventurous spirits and wandering souls.

It is nice to be back.

Enjoying Venice friends Italy living abroad travel