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.
First Stop: Messina and Taormina
We had a surprise, learning our Taormina on Your Own tour will not be leaving until 1:55, but we sailed right into the heart of Messina, past the beautiful Christ blessing ships at the entrance to the harbor.
I’m such a kid, I love watching the pilot boats arrive to escort us into port.
The early tours depart.
We have a quiet breakfast out on the Terrace and learn that not everyone is getting off the ship; some people are staying aboard. It boggles my mind. This is an amazing itinerary, it’s why we chose the trip. How can you stay on the ship?
I am beginning to find my way through the buffet. I can have oatmeal – AND smoked salmon. Much to AdventureMan’s disgust, I can also have pickled herring. The Swedish part of my heritage goes deep.
The Norwegian Star is about five times the size of the Oceania Nautica!
Once the early tours are gone, there are no problems walking off the ship, so we decided to go into Mesina to see the church with the horological clock, the biggest in the world. Exiting the tourist terminal, there were many people offering taxi rides, but they were not overly aggressive, and we were able to escape quickly. We crossed the street with a Sikh and his wife who very agreeably told us we needed to be more aggressive and to “think like Italians.” They were very kind.
The church was mere minutes from the ship; we could see the ship many times through the streets to the waterfront.
At the church, there were few people, hucksters selling cheap souvenirs and Indian-made shawls, and two open Hop On Hop Off kinds of buses. We asked about one, and it had a 45 minute tour for 10 Euro, so we bought tickets and five minutes later along came a bus. It was almost full, but there was one seat, and, as it turned out, I was on the good side for taking lots of photos.
Behind me was a woman who said “Quick! Look up! There is a great photo” so I looked up and it was.
She and her husband were New Zealanders, newlyweds, who had intended to take a cruise for their honeymoon when COVID struck. They decided when COVID ended to take their trip, but in the three years, added several other loops onto the trip, and it ended up being three months full of adventure. They were having a wonderful time; they were on the Norwegian Star, parked with the Nautica on the waterfront.
There were all kinds of Messina tours on offer.
I love this view; you can see how close Sicily is to the mainland of Italy. There is a ferry that goes back and forth; it is common to live on one side and work on the other.
Lots of representations of Poseidon/Zeus, God of the Sea
Just before exiting, we saw a very old church with wonderful stonework, so we decided to take a look. The church was partially built into the old Greco-Roman wall around Messina, squat and sturdy.
AdventureMan said “Look, we can go in!” and I said no, but he kept saying he thought we needed to go inside so I agreed. Great call, AdventureMan.
Annunziata dei Catalani Church
Oh, what I would have missed if I had not gone in! It was a very old church, and in the back was a handmade Messina-specific creche, with all kinds of villagers convincingly portrayed. It was one of the most elaborate creches I have ever seen, and I was thoroughly enchanted.
The church is thought to be the oldest church in Messina, with Arabic influences in the stonework, probably it was once a church, then a mosque, and is now a church again. Entrance is free – there is a small box for donations.
As we walked back to the ship, we learned we were supposed to have photo ID with us. I had my driver’s license (our passports were on board the ship) but AdventureMan had nothing. Then, suddenly, he realized he had photos of his passport page and other ID, which he showed the customs police, and it sufficed. There were others who had nothing, and it was a big problem for them to get through the Border Guards and back aboard.
There was also a woman just catching up with the Nautica. Her husband, and the bags, were stuck at the immigration shack. She and a bag were trying to get on board. She was very tired and very annoyed. “Worst start of a cruise EVER” she told us. It turns out there were twenty couples from England in the same situation, some of whom didn’t catch up until we got to Haifa.
We had been disappointed to be leaving so late for Taormina, but it turned out to be a really good thing. We really like exploring on our own, and had a wonderful time exploring Messina, and meeting people from other cruises, other countries, and other ways of life. We loved the funny little Hop On Hop Off bus and its one-hour circular route allowed us to see Messina and get back to the ship in time for our tour to Taormina.
We had a quick lunch at Waves, the outdoor grill. We had the panini, and it was a lot, so we saved half our sandwiches so we could just eat in our room at the end of a long day without needing to order from room service.
“Has Your Wardrobe Changed?”
I was on my hands and knees, sandwiching two new quilts when AdventureMan seated himself near me and asked if he should take his grey-green pants on the upcoming trip. With all the baggage insecurity going around, we’ve made a decision to take a carry-on bag and one personal item, and skip checked luggage altogether.
Being the kind of person who used to over-study for tests, this is causing me some anxiety. I told him that the pants did not coordinate with enough of his wardrobe to make them useful, to stick with the tried-and-true khakis which used to be his staple, and his blue jeans, which will get him through some of the more rugged places.
More than once, we’ve had luggage go missing. It always caught up with us, but once – in Lusaka, we were headed out into the bush the next day and had only our traveling clothes and night clothes – and, thank God, some shoes. We grabbed a taxi and found a street mall with a combination grocery and department store, stocked with camo and green clothing from China which was more or less apropos. We couldn’t be choosy, and we were thankful to find something that would get us through until, we hoped, our baggage showed up. I still love the thick green socks I found; they have worn like iron.
But this is different, this is not the bush, it is a lengthy cruise, and I am trying to pack enough cool-weather clothing for cooler places, warm-weather clothing for places that are pretty hot even when they have cooled off, and clothes for dining in specialty restaurants with a dress code. I need clothes which will be modest. I need something for just hanging around. I’ve saved old swimsuits I can wear and leave behind, so that’s one thing solved.
“We’ve never lived in one place this long, ever,” AdventureMan continued, “and I have clothes I never wear anymore, things that have just become irrelevant. I keep thinking I need to get rid of more, like the pleated pants and the dress shirts, but it’s hard, I wonder if I might need them. Does that happen with you?”
I pause in my pinning and laugh. I have one dress in three different colors, another dress in two colors, and two jean skirts. I have a winter hooded dress in five colors. I am not a big shopper, so when I find something that works, I go with multiples.
Meanwhile, yes, AdventureMan, I have that other closet full, like you, with just-in-case clothes. I still have what is left of my evening dresses. I have clothing for in case I have a business meeting, or a funeral, things maybe I’ve worn once or twice since moving here. I have the odd specialty pieces, like Christmas clothing. When will I be ready to part with my cold-weather clothing, so beautiful and once so expensive?
I laugh and tell him all the above, and then tell him that of all the clothes I wear, I still have the clothes which were made for me in Qatar and Kuwait, copies of one particular Coldwater Creek linen dress which I had copied in both linen and cotton. I have three left. I’ve been wearing them for fifteen years, and they still look like new.
“I’ve taken them in,” I tell him because I’m smaller than I was when I was relatively sedentary in Kuwait. “And I’ve taken the hems up at least twice as I’ve gotten more used to being back in America. People tell me I look nice – they used to ask me if I was a missionary wife,” I added, and we both laughed. When you live in a different culture for a while, you become adapted to local ways. I remember how disconcerting it was in summers coming back to the USA and finding all the women shockingly and scantily dressed in their sleeveless dresses and shorts and T-shirts, even respectable women and I knew the change was in me and my perceptions, not in my culture.
I am thinking the backpack will be my Godsend. I am hoping I still have the strength and energy to run through Charles de Gaulle airport with the backpack on my back, lifting the carry-on if we need to run up or down stairs. I am thinking I can strap the backpack onto the carry-on handle in the straight places. I am thinking whatever I take will be enough; I am hoping it might even be a matter of discovering I have overpacked a little less than before.
It’s a curious mentality you develop when you’re nomadic. You become aware of so many possibilities, things that can go wrong, and things you might need, so you are always thinking “just in case.”
We have a backup plan. We know there is a Carrefour (large French supermarket) in walking distance to our hotel, so we can stock up on things we don’t have room to pack, or which we can’t carry on-board an airplane – manicure scissors, needles, sun protection, and some good bottles of dry red wine for our cabin. My list gives me a small illusion of control.
I take a deep breath and remind myself that this is our get-away, our escape, and that anxiety is counter-productive. We will be fine. Enough is enough, it will be a grand adventure.
Greece, Italy Have the World’s Most Overweight Kids
Most people know that the United States has a childhood obesity problem. Less well known is that according to the latest data from the OECD is that we are not actually the world leaders in experiencing this issue. It’s Greece and Italy who have the most overweight kids:
This may not jibe with a lot of hype about the benefits of the Mediterranean diet but it turns out that said diet may no longer be especially popular in Greece and Italy. In 2008, Josef Schmidhuber of the UN Food and Agricultural Organization said traditional eating patterns in southern Europe had “decayed into a moribund state” and drastically increased their overall calorie intake and especially consumption of animal fat, salt, and sweeteners.
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