Author: Gracefully Global travels

Gracefully Global travels

Gracefully Global travels

Elsewhere, How To Book Travel

The reality of budget airlines and why I took the bus to Prague

by Gracefully Global travels •

For a lover of travel, the best thing Europe has to offer is having a completely different culture nearly at your fingertips…traveling from country to country in Europe requires less financial investment and often less time than traveling from state to state in the United States.

More affordable European travel is mostly due to a fairly robust train system, and incredibly low-cost airlines (low-cost as in, flying to Paris from Milan for $20). Airfares from low-cost airlines such as EasyJet, RyanAir, and WizzAir are, at face value, a traveler’s dream, made possible by the groundbreaking  “Open-Skies Treaty” in 1992, removing government restrictions on airspace.

The chance to fly throughout Europe at discount prices offers a lot of opportunity for the seasoned traveler with energy, patience, and time to spare. But the reality for the rest of us is that there’s a lot of expense, time, and effort that is in excess to the advertised discount airfares, which can be especially aggravating to the inexperienced traveler.

RyanAir, the king of low-cost airlines, topped Zagat’s list as the #1 worst airline in the world, receiving a measly score of 4.16 out of 30 possible points in customer feedback surveys. On the bright side, at least you’ve been forewarned. As a British expat said to me recently, “Well, at least RyanAir is number one in something.”

IMG_7507All that being said, on a recent opportunity to meet a friend in Prague and faced with the choice of a 125 euro round-trip RyanAir flight to Prague from a small airport 3 hours by train or car from where I live in Bologna, or a 15 hour bus ride, I chose the bus.

Here’s why:

1. Hidden airline fees
While baggage, beverage, and snack fees have become an industry wide standard, discount airlines take these fees to another level. 

  • BAGGAGE FEES
    Easyjet, for example, allows one carry-on and only one, so ladies, that means you either save room in your carry-on for your purse, or you’re going to be charged a baggage fee.  While RyanAir seems to be “generous” with their carry-on policy permitting a small bag as well as a regular carry-on, they instead search for other, more unexpected ways to extract money out of you.  For instance, if you don’t pay for your baggage online in advance of getting to the airport, they charge you a much higher baggage fee (I paid 100 euro for my bag when flying on RyanAir from Milan to Stockholm).
  • “PRINT YOUR TICKET AT HOME” POLICY
    RyanAir’s infamous “print your ticket at home” requirement has bitten me in the butt twice. Once on my way back home to Bologna from a trip to Paris, I lost my return ticket I had printed before leaving on the trip and had to pay the 10 euro fee to print my ticket at the printing kiosk at Beauvais. I was lucky they had a printing kiosk, as many airports don’t and the fee is even higher if you have to print it at the check-in desk.
  • SMART PHONES DON’T HELP
    With the advent of airline smart phone applications, I thought I had finally overcome this most annoying aspect of flying via RyanAir by being able to use my smartphone e-boarding pass, only to find out at the airport that RyanAir doesn’t permit non-EU citizens to use e-boarding passes, another predatory procedure aimed at tricking you out of your money, as the procedure is not clear via the app, and is not related to government policy (EasyJet, for instance, permits the use of e-boarding passes by non-EU citizens) and is instead taking advantage of travelers who are never originating from their home city and therefore with fewer resources for printing their tickets.

2. Extra ground transport time and fees
When you are visiting larger European cities, the low-cost carrier airports are often located further away from the cities, and require more time, creativity, and money to get to and from the airports, which ultimately cuts into your vacation time.

  • DISTANT AIRPORTS, SPARSE TRANSPORTATION OPTIONS
    Luckily in smaller cities like Bologna, the low-cost airlines share the same airport with the major carriers. But in most major cities this isn’t the case.
    For example, Beauvais is the low-cost carrier airport serving Paris. It takes about an hour to travel by bus to Paris from the airport. But the real challenge is getting back – the buses don’t run often and the bus company knows the airport schedule. If you arrive at the bus station – which is outside the center of Paris and requires a bit of time on the metro to reach – less than three and a half hours before your flight, the bus will have already departed for the airport and you’ll get stuck sharing the 125 euro cab fare with a few strangers in order to make it to the airport in time. Don’t worry though, the cabs wait by the bus station for unfortunate souls like us, so you’ll have no problem finding a cab (yes, unfortunately, I’m speaking from experience).
  • GROUND TRANSPORT CAN RUN INFREQUENTLY WITH DIFFICULT TO UNDERSTAND SCHEDULES
    Take it from me – make a mental note to learn the bus schedule of (often) the only method of transport to and from the airport serving your low-cost flight as in advance as possible, as sometimes this is no easy task when traveling in a non-English speaking country.
    Yes, along with my eventful experience in Paris, I’m also referencing my nail-biting wait in line with my nearly indecipherable general admittance bus ticket behind several hundred other anxious budget travelers at Stockholm’s bus station in the wee hours of New Year’s Day, as (luckily) the bus company called a sleepy bus driver to come in on short notice to accommodate the especially numerous tourists that morning. If I had been able to read the schedule better and had done my research in advance, I would have arrived at the bus station earlier. Which brings me to the next important point:
  • BUY YOUR TICKET IN ADVANCE / WIKITRAVEL IS (always) YOUR BEST FRIEND
    Always check (the life-saving) Wikitravel before you leave on your trip and see if you can buy your bus ticket online.  This will save you the inevitable wait in line behind everyone else on your plane to buy your bus ticket.
    In airports like Brussels South Charleroi Airport, your ticket bought in advance online could save you hours, as the electronic kiosks to buy your bus ticket at this airport are iffy at best,* and the majority of travelers whose ATM/credit cards are not accepted by the kiosk must wait in line to buy their ticket from the one in-person attendant available, who tends to take lunch during peak arrival times. I eventually wizened up and payed a local returning home in cash to put my ticket on his card at the kiosk and was able to get on a bus to Brussels without an really significant delay.
    I’ll never forget pulling away from the curb and seeing the hundred people (including many from my plane) camped out in line for their bus ticket in front of the “gone for lunch” sign at the attendant’s empty window. Take it from me (and all the people waiting in that line), read Wikitravel for the city you’re visiting before you get there! The Brussels entry had explicitly warned travelers about this problem, but unfortunately I didn’t read the entry until I was on my to the airport, so it was too late to buy my bus ticket in advance online.
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My happy friend Chris who met me at the Brussels bus station after I narrowly escaped the drama of the airport.

3. Additional accommodation fees, taxi fees, and/or major loss of sleep
Budget flights do not run as regularly between the destinations they serve as regular carriers do, and the flights often take place at less desirable times of day, like very early or very late. 
This could mean that you’ll arrive at your destination late at night, or that you’ll take off very early in the morning. And remember, most major cities do not run their public transportation 24 hours per day.

  • TOO LATE/TOO EARLY FLIGHTS
    It is easy not to consider enough just how much your flight time affects the way your organize your trip. For instance, if you wanted to head out on your vacation on a Saturday morning, but there are no morning flights offered and you are left with the choice of leaving a day earlier and paying an extra night of hotel stay, or leaving twelve hours later and losing most of a day of vacation, what do you do? An extra night of hotel is not a budget option. If you added the hotel stay to what you paid for the flight, you could probably afford a non-budget flight leaving at a more comfortable time of day.
  • MISSING YOUR FLIGHT BECAUSE THE METRO WASN’T OPEN YET
    Early morning flights can infamously depart sooner than it is possible to arrive at the airport via ground transport, or sooner than the metro that brings you to the ground transport starts to run.
    My friend Lauren missed her EasyJet flight out of London for just this reason – she had afforded enough to time to get to the airport, not considering that she might have to wait for the metro to start running in the morning. Wikitravel’s London page actually has a section describing how to sleep at London Stansted airport, as so many people riding EasyJet and RyanAir have encountered this problem over the years.
    With no public transport options early in the morning, your choice is to sleep for free on a bench at the airport, pay to sleep at an airport hotel, or pay for expensive door-to-door ground transport. Honestly, I don’t know about you but none of these options sound so great to me.

4. Lots of time and attention needed to meet stricter baggage and liquid requirements
If you’re flying low-cost, that probably means you don’t want to spend the money to check your bags. But take it from me – check them, and do it as in advance as possible. 
Check your bags when you originally book your ticket, as that’s when you’ll be offered the biggest discount for the checked bags. You can also check them when you check-in online for less of a discount. Do not check your bags spontaneously at the airport, as they will charge you a crazy fee.
Checking your bags saves you the stress of packing. And stressing/wasting time on packing is never worth it – that and the lack of stuff you’ll have access to for your trip (because checked baggage allotments are so minimal) can quickly negate any of the positive benefits you’re deriving from your trip.

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Arriving in Bologna on my first RyanAir flight.
  • STRICTER LIQUID POLICIES
    Discount airlines are often stricter about their baggage and liquid policies in airports only serving low-cost carriers. There is no customer service mandate that prevents them from caring about making you feel like a criminal because you forgot you had Chapstick buried in the bottom of your purse, so security lines at low-cost airports are often longer and more stressful than security lines at other airports. Save yourself this stress and worry by tossing all your liquids in your checked baggage. Then you can stand in the security line worry-free (as long as you arrive early enough for your flight!).
  • DON’T FORGET ABOUT WINTER AND SOUVENIRS
    Getting to your destination is one thing, but weathering long days being a tourist outside in winter without enough warm, heavy clothes to keep you warm because you weren’t able to fit enough in your carry-on is absolutely no fun. Also, layering is only fashionable to a point. I spent a freezing May in London pretty much wearing everything I had fit in my carry-on every day. I think the last time I was so perpetually unfashionable was in 1993.  Fortunately I’m not a souvenir gal, but I know many of you are. I can assure you there won’t be space in your bag for it, and forget bringing back a bottle of wine or heaven forbid some olive oil. But if you are flying low-cost there is still a way around it.  If you go crazy souvenir shopping, add a souvenir tote bag to your shopping list which will afford you more space to dump all your (non-liquid) souvenirs in the tote to carry-on, and then check your luggage in when you check-in online.

5. When you count out all the hours that go into all of the effort to take a budget airline, sometimes a bus or a train is actually a faster way to go. 
If I had flown to Prague instead of taking the 14 hour bus, I would have had to take a bus to the train, to another bus, to a plane, and then to another bus.

Including all connections, airport time, and flight, it would have cost 200 euro (train and bus tickets add up quickly) and would have taken about 11 hours. Instead, for 100 euro round-trip, I got to relax on a comfortable – albeit non-luxurious – bus with phone service the whole way, frequent pit stops, super friendly drivers who gave us free water and cookies, and as much luggage and liquid as I wanted to bring. All this without a stress or worry. No delayed flights, no standing in line, great view.  Loved it.

I’m making a habit out of this actually. In January I took a train from Milan to Paris, and tomorrow I’m taking the train to Munich. Another great alternative to discount airlines. You can find timetables for train travel across Europe on the German website, Bahn.

But if you really still want to fly, I understand. Just please, all I ask is remember these tips so you don’t have to suffer quite as much as me and my friends have…;)

* Kiosks may now be working better, as this occurred in 2012.

Italy Travel, Travel Opinion, Travel: My stories

My first Italian wedding in Lecce: It was no perfect fairytale, but there was a happy ending

by Gracefully Global travels •

IMG_9898
It was 11pm and I was standing alone outside the Lecce train station with two luggages, two bags, no ride, no money, and Lecce’s Wikitravel entry loaded on my iphone, warning me about Lecce’s rip-off taxis. Well, thank heavens. I had phone service.
I had just endured three days and two nights of continuos travel to get to Lecce, Italy (in the region of Puglia) from San Diego, CA, for the wedding of two of my best friends: an Italian bride from Lecce, and an American groom from Buffalo. They met on Valentine’s Day at a party at my apartment in Bologna, years ago. I couldn’t wait for the nuptials, and the celebration, but mostly to be reunited with some of my best friends.
So despite obvious fatigue and ambiguity about the next few hours of my life, and the lack of fairytale charm that was driving my current travel story, being back in Italy after five long months away and the promise of what was to come was enough to keep my spirits up.
I was the first out-of-town guest to arrive in Lecce. I made it to the B&B in an overpriced cab (Wikitravel is always right) and slept in a damp cave-like hallway of a room in a bottom bunk. Still unfazed, I woke up the next morning and tried my best to play host to the string of foreigners arriving by bus and train, depending on whether they flew in on a budget flight to nearby Brindisi, or endured a long train ride from a major airport. We were stuck like sardines, eleven of us, in the small B&B with two bathrooms with no central access. But we were happy nonetheless to be reunited once again. Many of us had studied arts management together, while others were students or teachers in other capacities. But we all had at least three things in common: the bride, the groom, and we weren’t from Lecce.
That evening, in the absence of the tradition of a bachelor/bachelorette party, the bride had organized a pre-party to celebrate with friends. I’d been tasked with preparing a “Bologna style gag” for the occasion. Meaning that, because Bologna is a university town, it is famous for graduation traditions involving a significant level of public humiliation, such as printing out bad quality, embarrassing pictures of the graduate, writing funny captions on them, and posting them on the streets for the public to enjoy. When the groom did this for my Bologna graduation, my landlord sent me a congratulations. “How did you know I graduated?” I asked him. “Well, I saw your pictures on the street of course,” he responded. Eeeek.

So this was my natural choice for the gag for the “quasi bachelor/ette” party. Three of us from the “foreigner” cohort spent nearly an hour plastering Lecce with embarrassing photos of the couple on this busy Friday night in town.

We died of laughter as the pedestrians accepted our “art” with gusto, tourists and locals stopping to enjoy the photos as they headed out for the evening. The public humiliation continued as I managed to get the bride and groom to cross-dress during a “soon to be newlywed” game (photos not included for the sake of the long-term reputation of the couple, sorry guys ;)).

We made it to bed at a fairly decent hour in anticipation of the big event. Venturing out the next morning – the Saturday of the wedding – in the heart of wedding season in gorgeous, baroque Lecce, we seemed to run into a wedding around every corner.

Due to this competitive wedding season, our bride had “settled” on her third choice for the wedding ceremony: Lecce’s duomo.

Let’s just say Lecce’s duomo is not your average duomo, and not your average place to get married, especially by American standards. It is, for lack of a more sophisticated word, immense, and usually packed with tourists. I was dumbfounded that it was even an option to get married in a place of such beauty and history.
We arrived early for the ceremony, dwarfed by the scale of the duomo, and feeling as though we had finally stepped into the pages of the fairytale. Except, are grooms actually nervous in fairytales? We tried our best to console him. The bride was on time, but the organist was late.
Other than the late organist, they managed to get hitched without a hitch. The American “assistant priest” even offered comic relief for all as he embraced his big moment on the duomo altar by taking pictures during the ceremony.

After the ceremony, the bride and groom greeted their adoring family and friends on the steps of the duomo,

tossing the bouquet into our crowd on the edge of the immense piazza,

which ended in a surprising steal by one of the guys, who was teased endlessly after by the bride’s brothers.  More priest photo-taking,

and a long string of well-wishing and congratulations, during which the bride’s nana (grandma) took a breather in the coveted limousine (not such a common car in Italy).

We got our pic with the beautiful bride, and then we finally set out for the reception.

The party took place in a castle called Castello Monaci on a piece of country land outside of Lecce. As we pulled up at dusk, it felt like we were arriving at Cinderella’s castle set on the backdrop of the beautiful Pugliese landscape.

First wine tasting in the museum foyer (another building on the estate),

followed by an antipasto buffet in the castle,

complete with all of the bride and groom’s favorite things,

and a few of our own too. 😉

We foolishly thought the antipasto buffet was dinner, but our plates were soon pulled away and a several course wine paired dinner began.

We were all feeling well taken care of.

As we savored the last tasty morsels of dinner, we were beckoned outside for the cake cutting happening in tandem with traditional Pugliese Pizzica and Tarantella music and dance, complete with a traditional band.

Tambourines were ringing as women threw off their heels and ran for the improvised dance floor in the damp grass, everyone trading partners and teaching the little guests and foreigners how to join in.

And just as we all imagined that life couldn’t get much better, we were ushered into another wing in the castle, and greeted by a dessert buffet that could only be matched in my wildest imagination by a scene in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Off the dessert bar was an enclosed glass patio where the DJ, the official dance floor, and an open bar awaited.

The grappa was amazing.
And then, just as the clock chiming midnight snuck up on Cinderella, before we knew it 4am had rudely arrived and ended our magical night. The bride and groom retreated to their castle chambers, and we headed off in the Volkswagen of one of the waitresses, as the last taxi in the region had already called it a night. Not exactly a magical carriage ride, and returning to our damp and dark B&B wasn’t so magical either. Reality had arrived, but that was ok. We can’t be too greedy about our special experiences…we got enough of them tonight to even stow some away in reserves for awhile.
And that, my friends, is the end of this fairytale, at least for now…

Elsewhere, Kufstein, Austria, Travel Opinion, Travel: My stories

One of the most beautiful train rides there is

by Gracefully Global travels •

I’m on a train bound for Kufstein, Austria.  I’ve made the trip once before, in the winter, and it was a magical winter wonderland. Now it is an Eden of vegetation as far as the eye can see. Payoff for the long, wet winter. The train conductor is inching along and honking at some miscellaneous intruder. More time to enjoy the scenery…

This is almost the last leg of my whirlwind trip from California to Southern Italy, to Bolona, up to England, back to Bologna, and now on to Austria. I have so many stories to share with you, but I find it difficult to do this from the road, as I focus on living the stories that I write about later. I do manage to get a “pic of the day” posted on my Instagram account, but I often think I would rather post the pic to share with all of you, but I guess I just find the Instagram platform easier to use on the go. Please do find me Instragram so we can also connect that way.

This post is a check-in that I am, in fact, still alive. And it is a promise of some good storytelling to come when I get back to Bologna next week and can get settled in for the summer and can start focusing on other things I love in my life, like blogging with you all!

In the meantime, back I go to looking out the window on this beautiful ÖBB train. I love train rides – they offer such great opportunity for reflection. Maybe too good – I often see people crying on the train. I can’t say I’ve never done it!

We are about to start weaving through the Italian alps, so my phone service will go away. I will be left to staring at mountains and wineries and church steeples with the most particular architecture. So many cultures converge in these parts…borders have always been my favorite places to be.
Hope you all are well! A presto!

Travel: My stories

Anniversaries 

by Gracefully Global travels •

 

The center of Bologna’s historic center

It snuck up on me…exactly one year ago today I left Bologna to return to family, friends, and career in the US. It hasn’t been an easy year, but I don’t regret it, especially the moments spent with loved ones.
First selfie stateside with my host and wonderful friend Janet at her work in New York, MOMA, last May 19
 
I really had no idea of the level of challenge that would accompany returning to my own country after 3.5 years abroad.  I just remember sitting in my ex-boyfriend’s car as we sped to Malpensa airport near Milan, looking out the window at the bright Italian sunlight and the green countryside, wondering what would lie ahead. One year ago to the hour. 
Celebrating the beautiful climate on a beach adventure near my home in San Diego with visiting Swedish friends
  
In retrospect, my naïveté supported me, as if I had known in advance, I don’t think I would have had the guts to do it.  But I am still trying to understand why returning “home” can be such a challenge! 
The support from both sides of the pond, including the blogging community, has been a blessing…extending a big, heartfelt thanks.
 
Some graffiti of my name a mysterious admirer wrote on the side of the building where I lived in Bologna is still there, just faded.
   

Travel: My stories

The dawning of a new adventure 

by Gracefully Global travels •


As I start out on this new adventure to Italy and beyond for the summer, I can’t help thinking it is going to be a good one.  But really, I’ve already had more than my fair share of adventures, from my perch in a swinging TSA bassinet on my first flight from my birthplace in Togo, West Africa, to my multiple cross-country drives, and starting life anew in my thirties to pursue a graduate degree in Bologna, Italy.  If I never had another adventure, I really couldn’t complain, and I’d still be fiercely grateful for all of it.


After nearly a year of adjustment to being back home in San Diego, California, and getting used to not being a perpetual traveler, I am now off from my university job for the semester, and therefore back to my old traveling ways.  At the moment I am lounging in an armchair at JFK, on my way to a wedding near Lecce in Puglia, Italy, which forms the heel of the boot of Italy.  I have been to Puglia one time previously, and the abundance of sun, vegetables, and unique architecture made it a favorite of mine immediately.

puglia


Combine a beautiful place like Puglia with a traditional Italian wedding of two of your best friends, with some of your other best friends in attendance, and you’ve got an epic event on your hands.  Ironically, these two love birds met for the first time at my apartment in Bologna.  Several years ago, an American friend of mine convinced me to throw a “day after Valentine’s Day party” for singles to meet.  That particular friend is still single, but two of my other friends – an American and an Italian – met at that party, and the rest was history, as they say.

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A few of our group that will be at the wedding, including the groom!!


Some of my favorite travelers, also part of the same friend group, are currently en route to the wedding as I write this.  I will meet one of them in a few hours at the Emirates check-in desk at JFK, after my godmother takes me to a Peruvian dinner in Queens to fill the time of my long layover.  Another flight and a bus and a train later, we will all be in Puglia together.  And that will kick off this summer with a bang.


I only hope that you all will experience time with loved ones and/or some wonderful adventures this summer as well.  And if you don’t have anything planned yet, well, get to it!
Stay tuned!

Bologna, Illustrious Instants, Life in Bologna

Illustrious Instants: Celebrating spring in Bologna’s beautiful colli (hills)

by Gracefully Global travels •

It was almost exactly one year ago today that this moment was captured, on one of those blissful Sunday afternoons with friends and nothing else on your mind to distract you and keep you from enjoying every second of now. I had nothing on the agenda other than relaxing, eating, and catching up with/getting to know the gals.

Fienile Fluo restaurant Bologna
One of the many gorgeous views from Fienile Fluo

It is one of those memories that is still as vibrant as the colors in these photos, and will not soon fade. The restaurant, Fienile Fluo, is in the perfect location, but unfortunately the food isn’t perfect, and the service is even worse.  It is the place to go for a day like this: when you have a lot of time, you have great company so you don’t demand a lot of attention, and you aren’t so concerned with the quality of your meal.  In the perfect storm when most of these conditions are met, you can’t ask for a better place to be.

Fienile Fluo ravioli Bologna
My friend Ana proudly displaying her lunch

Meat and cheese plates are great choices at places like this where food quality is inconsistent.

Fienile Fluo restaurant Bologna
More lunch goodness

I broke away from lunch for a  bit to take a few pictures.  There was lots of action to capture…like the family dog…

Fienile Fluo restaurant dog bologna
The family dog at Fienile Fluo was also enjoying the weather

A tractor…;)

Fienile Fluo Bologna restaurant
Everyone is getting ready for spring.

I couldn’t take a bad shot. Bologna, while unfortunately stuck in a valley that traps bad weather, also reaps the advantages of being surrounded by these gorgeous hills (called “colli” in Italian).  After a long winter of bearing the brunt of the cold, emerging into the hills was the perfect way to celebrate the spring. A life full of afternoons like these is certainly a happy life…I wish for more of them for you and me. 🙂

Fienile Fluo restaurant Bologna
Here’s our group…we all hail from different cities (and some of us even different countries!), but we got along great. 🙂

Travel Opinion

Insightful Co.Exist article about why we should invest in experiences.

by Gracefully Global travels •

A few weeks ago I came back to this blog after nearly a year away, wrestling with my recent transition back to living in the United States from Italy, and the milestones that I’ve traded in for my experiences.  It is a topic that I ponder often, and I appreciate any outside sources of wisdom I can find on the topic.  Here’s an article that addresses this very issue.  Since you all are lovers of traveling and experiences, I thought you would also find it interesting.

The Science Of Why You Should Spend Your Money On Experiences, Not Things.

You don’t have infinite money. Spend it on stuff that research says makes you happy.  By Jay Cassano

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

Suspended in time in Siena, Italy

by Gracefully Global travels •


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.


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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.

Piazza del Campo, Siena, Italy
Piazza del Campo in the late afternoon sun in Siena, Italy.


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.

Cesenatico, Italy Travel, Travel: My stories

Celebrating the Italian Summer at the Seaside in Cesenatico

by Gracefully Global travels •

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 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.

Fishing boats in Cesenatico, Italy
Fishing boats in Cesenatico, 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
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
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.

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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
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.

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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.

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Children played under trees decorated with diamonds and more jellyfish.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

Elsewhere, Travel Opinion, Travel: My stories

My Life as an Agatha Christie Novel

by Gracefully Global travels •


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.

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Touring Las Vegas!


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.

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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.