Morocco Malta and the Med: Not Even a DAY in Rome

Viking Saturn arrives in Civitavecchia, not Rome. It’s a couple hours plus to Rome.
OK, real world stuff here, I am about to do what we call a First World Whine. Meaning in the larger scheme of things, we know how very lucky we are to be able to do these trips. And we are having a ball. And – I think I may be getting old. It feels like there are not quite enough hours in the day. Not to see all we want to see, or to understand all that we see, or take notes on what we see so I can make sense when I share these trips with you.
So today we are “in” Rome, but we are docked in Civitavecchia, a port about two hours drive from Rome. We signed on to a sort of Rome on Your Own kind of thing because we have never been to Rome before, we know what we want to see and do, and we want to do it at our own speed. We’ve signed up for the earliest trip into Rome, and we plan from there to catch a shuttle to the Coliseum, because, well, you go to Rome and see the Coliseum and the Trevi Fountain.
This won’t even be a “day” in Rome, this will be like five hours in Rome, and I am trying not to feel the pressure. Whatever time I have, I want to experience Rome, I want to feel Rome but oh, the pressure is mounting. Aargh.
Our guide is delightful. She hands us a map, and she hands us a card, and tells us where we will need to br to catch the bus for the ride back to the ship. This is the card for the tour company:

Civitavecchia is a pretty cool old city on its own. If I ever have a chance to spend four or five days really seeing Rome, then I would choose the next time I landed in Civitavecchia to just visit Civitavecchia. It’s full of old structures, and it’s been featured in several Dan Brown-type novels where the characters travel impossible distances in impossible times and solve ancient mysteries with intuitive leaps.







So Plaza de Popolo; our first stop so we can catch the shuttle to the Coliseum; we will finish up here at the end of our few hours.




Love Viking signage!









It’s early. And there are already hundreds of people. We take the requisite selfies and skedaddle.


Check!
It’s supposed to be cold in the morning, maybe a little rain, and warm in the afternon. We carry go-bags with the minimum to meet all the requirements, plus water and something chocolate in case of emergencies.
We have several things we want to see – AdventureMan has found the Pantheon on our map, and the place our guide recommended for a lunch were the Romans might eat, and the Trevi fountain, and between the Coliseum and Plaza de Popolo we can see those, and whatever else we see. We just want to soak in a little flavor of Rome, and we can do that by walking, and hitting some of the back streets and lesser-known sights.
Actually, once we shoot those photos with the Coliseum, we start having a good time. There is really nothing we HAVE to do except be at the meeting place at 3:15.





















Now comes another small adventure, and another wonderful hairdresser story. We can see the restaurant we want to go to on the map, but no matter how we try, we can’t seem to get there. AdventureMan sees a hair salon, and pops his head in to ask for help. A guy sitting there asks what he is looking for and when AdventureMan tells him the name of the restaurant, he gets a big smile on his face and says “My friend works there! I will take you there!”
AdventureMan had thought he was a customer, but no, he was a hairdresser and was relaxing between customers. He was a very nice man; we talked as we walked to the restaurant, and when we got there, he found his friend, introduced us and told him to take good care of us, that we were his friends.



We loved the place. And we loved the food. And we loved the nice young man who took such good care of us. He looked at me and said “I know you are American, but I think you family is from here.” I said no, we were mostly Swedish, and he laughed and said “You look like you are from here.” And he approved of everything we ordered, and brought us good wine.




These were roasted artichokes, Jewish style, and you could eat the whole thing, even the stem. SO delicious!



I love this baker in the background, with his load of bread, phoning someone to say he is here.


We find the Trevi Fountain, under construction, OK, check. LOL.









We found the river, and walking alongside it was so relatively serene.


AdventureMan has a philosophy that if it isn’t forbidden, it is permitted. He loved this driver’s panache.



We have fifteen minutes before meetup, back at Plaza de Popolo. We’ve had a great day. We grab a couple espressos at a cafe so we can use the restroom before the drive back. AdventureMan discovers he actually likes espresso and says it is a lot like Turkish coffee.
The Christmas markets are just starting to set up, but are not open yet.

My FitBit is confused by the time change; keeps track of steps but not hourly requirement.

This is so frustrating. Back on board, we attend a lecture by Professor David Kohl. It is speculative and also entertaining, but I wish I had heard the lecture BEFORE the Rome visit as he mentions two of the oldest churches in Rome that I would have loved to see.
So the sun is setting over Civitavecchia and we are getting ready once again to sail away.




Morocco Malta and the Med: Ajaccio (Corsica) and Napoleon
Early morning arrival in Ajaccio


Breakfast at Mamsens, the small Norwegian style kiosk in the Explorer’s Lounge. We love their waffles with fruit and I especially love the golden gjetost, soft smooth and nutty.


We can see the buses lining up for our excursion. We signed up for the earliest; I like the early morning light for photos and we are docked right in town; we can leave the tour as it finishes and explore on our own. We hope we can also have lunch in Ajaccio. We’ve never been here before, and AdventureMan is a long-time appreciator of Napoleon, his strategies and tactics, who was born in Ajaccio.


Sometimes I overthink. My morning is cloudy and grey, and light flat and sullen. Ah well, we do the best we can with what we’ve got. Fortunately Viking has their nice bright red canopy and carpet to usher us off the ship and to our buses.


The light fixtures are interesting, Napoleonic crowns




Napoleon looking at AdventureMan with appreciation. 😉

The cave of Napoleon (he hid there? I don’t know the significance.)


We drove along the coastline, I never mind a coastal drive! This is some of the priciest real estate in Corsica, overlooking the sea. These are family crypts, so beautiful that families picnic, even sleep in these houses where their family members are encrypted.

We come to a rest stop, and the three island/mountains with towers on top are significant, but I can’t remember how. It is sunny now, and windy, and we appreciated the time to walk and breathe in the sea air. Their were powerful waves hitting the wharf, so it was chained so we wouldn’t walk out there.









Back in town, we exit the bus at the church where Napoleon was baptized, which is undergoing some repairs and renovations now, but they let us go in.









We are told that these are Corsican windows, special to the area because Corsicans are snoopy and into one another’s business and these windows allow snoopy women not to be seen but to keep up with the happenings in the neighborhood. I tell you this because in Malta, these same windows are reported as a Maltese invention because Maltese women are snoopy, and in Rome, of course they were a Roman invention because – well, you get the picture. I guess the women were snoopy because they were often confined to the home, and learned what they could by peeping out these screened windows?

The next church was dear to my heart, the Mariner’s church. Far less elaborate than Napoleon’s church, this church was in place to pray for those who go to sea, who fish, who are sometimes late returning, and for those who never come back. Growing up in Alaska, among fishing folk, I have a great respect for and a healthy fear of the sea. I feel at home in this beautiful, heart-felt church.






Leaving the Mariner’s Church and nearby, the Fortress and moat. And something else, can you see?

I’ve changed the angle just a bit, can you see now?

That’s our ship! We’re the only ship docked in the center of town, and you can see it from everywhere. We have no concern leaving the group when we are ready; we know how to get back to the ship before it sails.

Our guide implied that the people of Ajaccio are actually prouder of Pascal Paoli than Napoleon, and that we should be too, we Americans. Do you know who he is? Wikipedia says:
Paoli commemorated in the United States
The American Sons of Liberty movement were inspired by Paoli. Ebenezer McIntosh, a leader of the Sons of Liberty, named his son Paschal Paoli McIntosh in honour of him. In 1768, the editor of the New York Journal described Paoli as “the greatest man on earth“. Several places in the United States are named after him. These include:
- Paoli, Colorado
- Paoli, Indiana
- Paoli, Kentucky
- Paoli, Oklahoma
- Paoli, Pennsylvania, which was named after “General Paoli’s Tavern” a meeting-point of the Sons of Liberty and homage to the “General of the Corsicans”.
- Paoli, Wisconsin
Our guide told us that the first democratic constitution in the world was Paoli’s 1755 Constitution for the independent Republic of Corsica and that it was written in conjunction with with Thomas Jefferson and was directly influencial in the formation of the US Constitution.. I can find no verification of that information, but I found the following in Grunge. Hmmmm.
The American Dream is born
Emanuel Leutze
Across the Atlantic, Patriots in the Thirteen Colonies eagerly followed the Corsican War. According to the Journal of the American Revolution, Corsica’s heroism made Paoli highly respected in America, inspiring the Patriots (especially the Sons of Liberty) to push for a war of independence. William Pitt called him “a hero out of Plutarch.” According to the Colonial Society, the leader of the Boston Riots, Ebenezer Mackintosh, named his son after Pasquale. At Columbia University (then King’s College), a battalion of student volunteers of the NY militia nicknamed “the Corsicans” formed in 1775. Its most famous member? Alexander Hamilton.
Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Wisconsin all contain towns named Paoli after that famous Corsican hero. At Paoli’s Tavern, PA, British forces defeated George Washington and Anthony Wayne. The significance of the name was surely not lost on either side. But was Paoli’s spirit present at the Old Pennsylvania State House in 1787?
According to Thomas Jefferson, he was not. The US Constitution was a purely American product, free of foreign influence. But Georges Coanet, secretary-general of the Pasquale Paoli Foundation, during a visit to Paoli, PA, noted that Paoli ran in the same Masonic circles as Benjamin Franklin and Lafayette, so they would have at least known about his constitution and ideas. It will never be certain, but given his American fame after Ponte Novu, it is certainly plausible that Paoli was at least on the minds of some of the founders during that hot Pennsylvania summer.
Read More: https://www.grunge.com/441925/the-heroic-story-of-the-island-that-inspired-the-american-revolution/

Paoli and the Bonaparte family did not get along. There’s a history. Below is the house where Napoleon was said to be born.

Lots of little shops open selling Napoleonic schlock, but it is Monday, and the Napoleonic Museum is not open.





At this central plaza, we separated from the group; I knew where the open market was and I wanted to see it. It was nearby. It was closed. No big deal, I also urgently needed to buy some mascara, and we had seen a large French department store on a main street, so we looked it up on Google and followed the blue dots until we got there. French store, lots of mascara, emergency met. As I paid at the caisse, I had to wait while a very long conversation took place between the cashier and a woman I thought to be a customer. But no, the cashier turned to me, although the other woman kept talking, and took my payment.
We are always trying to break large Euro bills so that we have small coins for bathrooms and for tips, so I broke a 100 Euro bill and as the cashier handed me the change (the mascara was not expensive so there was a lot of change) the woman was talking to me, and she was telling me she had not eaten for several days and that she was very hungry.
I am on a 23 day trip on a large ship going to wonderful places and I have a fist full of change in my hand. A part of me feels extorted, and a part of me sees me – privileged, buying a luxury, not a necessity, and with a handful of bills. I was ashamed I had even hesitated. Yes, I gave her some money to eat.
I never know when it is right or wrong, and I am sure I have been taken advantage of. In my readings, I came across this exhortation in scriptures: Matthew 5:42 Give to everyone who begs of you.
We are hungry, and we wanted to eat in Ajaccio. We find a place that looks promising, there is a local man sleeping with a glass of brandy in his hand and a dog on his lap. We take that as a promising sign. Here is another promising sign:

We love this name, liberally translated “The Hole in the Wall”

If you look very closely, you may see the sleeping man and his dog on his lap 😊

My husband orders the Entrecôte, and I order the Aioli Maison Cabillaud. It’s too much food, but it is delicious! Sorry, I ate most of my fish before I remembered to take a picture.


Here’s something interesting to me – we eat like kings. On these cruises, we eat what we wish, and we eat desserts. We are walking so much – most days 10,000 steps or more. Sometimes way more. We are so active, the weight doesn’t stick. Also, we really like vegetables and salads and seafood with lighter sauces or no sauce at all, so we don’t worry, and we don’t gain weight. Also, the desserts served on board are very small, and even so, we might split a dessert so we usually get home our same weight or – even a little less! It’s a mystery.
We walk back to the ship – we had wine with lunch and are ready for a short nap. After our nap, we head for the spa, the beautiful Viking spa with hot water pool, a snow room, a wet steam room, a dry steam room – oh what luxury.
We are back in our cabin for sunset and Sail Away, and we see a spectacular sight – it’s nearing sunset, and suddenly the starlings start flocking; they look like schools of fish in the water, same movement, a glorious, joyful dance! I looked it up. It is called a murmuration. A murmuration . . .



This must be a frequent occurrence; guns are going off all over town, and fireworks. I don’t know if it is to keep the starlings from landing or to provide everyone with this spectacle.



At sundown the Christmas lights come on!

And we sail away from Ajaccio.

Morocco Malta and The Med: Marseilles and Cassis and Calanques

It is very early morning as we approach Marseilles, so early the sun has not begun to rise. The infamous Chateau d’If, made famous in Dumas’ Count of Monte Cristo looms in the semi-darkness.





We quickly eat breakfast; we are on one of the first tours out today, to Cassis and the famous calanques. What are calanques, you might ask? Here is what the Marseille Tourism board has to say:
What are the Calanques?
A Calanque is a unique kind of geological formation made of limestone. They are big rocky coves forming a steep and narrow valley inland and are mostly found around the Mediterranean sea. Here, the Calanques National Park is a protected and highly regulated area, stretching over 20 km from Marseille to Cassis, with 26 Calanques of various sizes (25 in Marseille and 1 in Cassis). Some are easily accessible and others are a lot less, but regardless, the Calanques are an absolute must-see when you visit Marseille!
I have always loved smaller villages, especially fishing villages, having grown up in one. And it will be Sunday in Marseille, not a great day for a Marseille tour as many of the roads are closed to traffic this Sunday, only open to bicyclists and pedestrians. Great day to get out of town.
The daily question becomes what to wear? What to carry? It is cold in the mornings, but will likely warm up. We will be going out on a small boat. How small? How windy will it be? Will we have any protection? What do YOU think?
I chose a dress that is like a sweatshirt, only with a full length zipper and it has a hood. I carried a scarf as well, and a hat in a go-bag. On the boat, it was indeed cold, and windy, and I put up my hood and tied it tightly so only a small portion of my face was exposed. I suppose I looked like one of those TeleTubbies, but I was not cold.
Sights en route to Cassis:







At the beach in Cassis: “In the town, I wear clothes.” LOL it is forbidden to walk around nude or in a bathing suit.









We have time to roam while we wait for our boat ride, and the fishing boats are in with their haul. Locals (they have bags with them, too) are seeking out the freshest fish for today’s Sunday meal.




We find a table at a corner cafe where we can have a coffee and watch the world go by. A group of four elegant elderly French women settle in front of us, with great red lipstick.

One of the nicest things happened here. Another couple women from our ship settled in next to us; they had been shopping and found some great things. What I loved was the bag from the shop, and when I asked how to get there she laughed and emptied her bag and gave it to me saying she didn’t care about the bag. I love the bag!

The boat ride begins. I can’t believe how many people they got on one small boat – maybe forty people!


We saw people on beaches in swimsuits, and people swimming in the cold water! I am hardy, but this is Mid-November! I am wearing a sweatshirt dress! And my legs are cold!



A very old aqueduct / bridge:











On our way back to Marseille.


The Christmas Market opening down by the port.






Cathedrale La Major: “Huge 1800s neo-Byzantine cathedral featuring an opulent interior lined with murals, mosaic & marble.” (Google Maps)






Viking Saturn is parked right next to the Cathedral La Major.

Our view from our cabin:




Morocco Malta and the Med, Day 2, A Nightime Adventure
Fresh from our nap and not sure where we want to eat, we head out to accomplish a small errand. I have discovered I have lost my hairbrush. This is an emergency. Brushing hair is a must do! AdventureMan is sure I have misplaced it, so I look again, and it is nowhere to be found. But how hard can it be to buy a hairbrush?
Harder than we thought. We pop into a couple grocery stores, where they have everything, everything except hair brushes. We head into the side streets, where I find a hair salon and go in to buy a hairbrush. This turned into a real comedy. They couldn’t understand me, so I spoke French, and they got the brush part they were very concerned. I finally figured out they had no appointments for me, they thought I wanted my hair brushed. I kept trying to explain. AdventureMan left to see if he could find anything, but came back and we were still trying to figure it out. Finally, they understood I wanted to buy a brush, but they didn’t have any for sale. They were so kind, and by the time we finished, the entire shop was engaged in trying to help me.
“China! China” and they pointed to the right, and then to the left. “China!”
We never found the China shop, but AdventureMan found a Pakastini shop that carried a little of everything and spoke Arabic; he just reached behind him, pulled out a brush and it was great. First problem solved.
Now, where to eat? We are not out on the main street, but these back streets are intriguing. Like this is where real people are living, buying groceries (and hairbrushes) and there are restaurants, not fancy, but we walk until AdventureMan finds one he wants to try.
We go in and find a table and ask for menus, and a table of guys drinking next to us starts raising a ruckus and looking at us. It’s hard to be a stranger.
The manager or bartender admonishes them lightly and takes our order.
I am thinking it might not be the right time to be eating, maybe it is only time for drinking and maybe little tapas until dinner time, which in Spain is a lot later. But we order, and everything seems OK.
AdventureMan orders a Fisherman’s Soup, and I order a different kind of soup, and we share a plate of grilled peppers. The soups are some of the best food we had on the trip.
I ended up with a soup that was white beans and some kind of pork, hammy pork, and vegetables. The broth was flavorful, probably had more salt than we normally use, so it was delicious. AdventureMan’s soup took the prize, though. Full of fish and shellfish, with a broth that could almost stand up, it was so strong.





If we hadn’t gone off the main road looking for a hairbrush, we would never have ended up in this little neighborhood pub place with its delicious soups!
It’s a risk. We went against conventional wisdom. The streets were darker, and smaller, and might not have been so safe – Barcelona IS a big city. The walk back to the hotel was a little bit scary, but nothing happened, and we had a small adventure and a really good local meal. As we passed the hair salon, they were still open, so I waved my hairbrush in victory, and the hairdresser came out and hugged me in joy and said something (I have no idea what,) but she was joyful with me. I call that a great adventure.
Morocco, Malta and the Mediterranean: Another Great Adventure

We thought we were done with cruising (this happens a lot) when suddenly this trip popped up on Viking’s new itineraries. We waited only two days, and called to reserve. The cabin area we want was already almost sold out! We got the last cabin, not the normal cabin we reserve, and felt lucky to get it. I checked the cabin catagories; the ship was almost entirely sold out.
Algiers. Malta. Ajaccio. Places we had never been before. It got our hearts racing.
We tried something new; for Barcelona, we booked a tour through Viator to visit the hillside Monastery of Monserrat. For Tunis, where we lived so many years ago, we booked through Tours for Locals, so that we could have a personalized visit to see things that mattered to us. We paid in advance – like more than a year in advance.
We are cautious with our money, so this was a little scary for us. Booking private tours in expensive. Between booking and implementing, a lot can happen. And what if the guides don’t show up??? What is your fallback? By faith, we bit that bullet and it worked out great for us.
It was also a long trip with 23 days total and various climates, so I did not believe I could do it with a carry-on. I used a bigger suitcase, again, by faith, and checked it. We never had a problem, and I was thankful to have a variety of clothing appropriate to the cultures and climate.
This trip took place from mid-November to early December. Today, AdventureMan asked me how I wanted to spend the weekend, and I said “I want to write up the trip for the blog.” In between getting home and now, I had to get Christmas decorations up, bake Christmas dishes, do Christmas Eve dinner, Christmas Day brunch, deal with having norovirus (me, just before Christmas), deal with AdventureMan having norovirus (shortly after Christmas, and with AdventureMan getting a papercut that turned into a severe infection with heavy duty antibiotics. Take Christmas down. Oh, and jury duty. And welcome the New Year with friends.
We are just now getting back to normal. At the end of this month, we start a major bath reconstruction that will disrupt us for six to eight weeks. Now is the time 😊.
Saying Goodbye to Al Marai Coffee Cups

All my nomadic life, I have had to sift, sort and weigh the value of my belongings – literally. As an Army wife and later a corporate wife, I had a weight allowance as we moved from country to country. My life was full of leaving things behind – friends, churches, social groups, jobs, my identity – as well as belongings.
Unlikely items made the cut. In 2003, when we moved to Doha, Qatar, I discovered a nearby store, the LuLu (which means lovely large pearl), where a gallon of Al Rifai milk came with a free coffee cup sturdily taped to it. I was delighted. I’ve always believed good design does not necessarily correlate with price – and these cups were a perfect size and had these wonderful scenes from Doha life, where there was a dhow harbor in the center of town, dhows in the harbor, and camel races with human riders on Saturdays. Look! The dhow coffee cup even has a wind tower in the background.
So yesterday, Christmas Day, as I opened two beautiful new coffee cups, one from Giverney and one from Barcelona, my husband looked at me sorrowfully, and approached the subject gently.
“It’s time we give up the Doha coffee cups,” he said.
“They have served us well. They are over 20 years old. They were free, probably made in China from materials we don’t even want to think about. I use them all the time, and even as I do, I wonder what might be leaching into my drink.”
I know he is right. There is no marking of any kind to indicate origin. After all these years, marks are appearing where we have stirred for twenty years. And yet – these cups have served me loyally. They are still bright and unmarred. I love their memorialization of a slower time in Doha. And I have options.
At Christmas breakfast, I have the cups out on display and offer them to my son. He is a discerning collector of first editions by selected authors, first edition Legos from the space exploration collections, edged weapons, and selected items that catch his attention. He also knows how to buy and sell on the Internet when he wants to refine his collections.
He expresses interest but does not take them with him. Their departure, however, is Christmas Day chaotic – bags full of presents, the food divided to be used for quick meals in the coming week (even our grandchildren contributed to our Christmas Eve dinner, my grandson a crab dip and my granddaughter a wreath made of crescent roll wrapped little smokies. My son, who was never interested in cooking, astonished us with a baked Brie!) and last-minute check-ins on upcoming family plans.
I am a patient woman. I know those cups deserve to find new appreciation in a new home. I believe my son will get involved but if not, I have other options.
Update: This is what it is like to be me. It is not that I am getting older, it is that I will tell you things I believe to be true, and they are close, but not the same.
My friend Yusuf, below, said he thought it must be Al Marai, and that sounded familiar. AdventureMan said maybe really we should keep the cups, and as he handled them, He found Al Marai logos on the cups. Not just one. Two on each cup.

In our family, we are all very very sure we are right. When we are not right, we are required to humbly state it. I was wrong, so very very wrong; the cups were labeled, Al Marai, not Al Rifai, and YOU, Yusef and AdventureMan, were RIGHT.
And we are keeping the cups!














































































































































