It's Sunday and the shops are closed. Actually, it's August and most shops would be closed anyway. But I'm here and I'm taking everything the city has to offer. I peer into shop windows, I take pictures of buildings, shops, restaurants, anything!
ASOLO
The bedroom.
The dining room.
THE LONG ROAD TO ROME
The same car that picked us up when we arrived at the train station in Castelfranco - the very posh BMW driven by the very good looking Stefano- also delivered us back to the station for the train to Venice. This train actually went on to Rome but we preferred to change in Mestre to go to Bologna just so we could be on the Frecciarossa to Rome. Not a very efficient way to travel- as Stuart repeatedly pointed out- but the Frecciarossa is more fun.
The Executive car served a full meal. With wine. And it had a lot of leg room. Miles of it.
So we really needn't have bothered with lunch at Mestre. But that was nice too. Plus the cafe is a useful discovery: at Venezia Mestre station, exit via the lift, and cross the street to Datura Cafe for excellent sandwiches, hot meals, and 5-star restrooms.
ROME
On the balcony, at night.
And day.
Labels: italy, Trains
Feeling orphaned and abandoned in Rome by dear friends and usual hosts Margarita and Maurizio who were away when we came, we turned to our hotel concierge for help.
Massimo to the rescue. This marvel of a driver, teacher, guide, and occasional evangelist led Stuart and me through an exciting and thorough exploration of the city. Its streets, squares, buildings, and gardens, ancient and modern. Letting us in on what he called the secrets of Rome, he happily chatted about her history, art, politics, myths, legends, and gossip.
We went up and down- frequently back and forth too- on streets off limits to most other vehicles. This made it possible for us to drive up with ease to hard to get at places or where parking is difficult. St Peter's square, Castel Santangelo, Villa Borghese, and Garibaldi square. The basilica of St Paul Outside the Wall, the church of S Bernardo with the beautiful honeycomb ceiling, and the church of Sta Maria della Vittoria for Bernini's Ecstacy of Sta Teresa.
We drove all around the posh Trastevere quarter, to Eataly way out in the burbs, and then to Mussolini's greatest folly, the failed EUR.
In between running commentaries on the importance of Sts Peter and Paul, Massimo pointed out Rome's best gelato shop, best granite cart, a mysterious building housing old opera costumes, and the best hospitals- the one for children (Bambino Gesu,) the one that fixed football superstar Totti's broken bones (Villa Stuart Clinic,) and the one that cared for Pope John Paul after he was shot (Gemelli.)
He encouraged us to walk through a romantic gate to crowded Piazza Navone. He got us to queue for a keyhole view of St. Peter’s in dark and quiet Piazza Cavalieri. And he insisted we walk up St Helena's steps. But even he could not get us to scale the steps on our knees, despite his protestations about the value of total dispensation for our sins.
We covered so much ground in two short days. Stuart and I could never have managed it on our own, even assuming we knew where to go or what to look for. We wanted the more unexplored parts of Rome, away from most of the obligatory spots we've already explored before.
Massimo and his secrets of Rome were the city's gifts to us. The perfect way to end a perfect holiday.
Labels: hotel car, secrets of Rome
Beautiful as Rome is, there is something to be said for the sophistication and elegance of most points north of the eternal city.
The Cavalieri is not the Villa Cipriani. Nor is it the Park Hyatt of Milan. Nowhere near.
Still, there are trade offs.
Away from "the children's asylum-" Stuart's words, not mine- that is the hotel's Imperial Club, the glorious relics of the Roman Empire wait to be explored, marveled at, and admired.
All this and the magnificent umbrella pines of Rome!
Labels: Cavalieri Hilton, Imperial Club, pines, Rome, Waldorf Astoria
Two years ago, when they told me they were constructing a pool on the grounds, I thought, Oh dear, there goes the neighbourhood!
Or in this case, the beautiful gardens of the Villa Cipriani. So now, it has taken me three days before I even ventured to go down and have a look.
I was wrong. Located beside an olive grove at the bottom of the garden, the pool deck noses right up to the ridge bordering the property and looks out onto the distant flat plains of the Veneto. Flanking it on both sides are woods with tall conifers that shelter it from buffeting winds. This is a beautiful spot.
It's raining now and I refuse to budge. It's lovely here. I may never leave.
Labels: Asolo, Villa Cipriani
I am heartbroken. I haven't managed to get a booking for tonight's Il Pranzo di Babette. 70 seats and they can't squeeze in just two more? We've come all this way, I pleaded, and the nice lady on the phone said maybe if you call again at 3:30 ...
My destiny will turn on a meal ticket.Meanwhile, it's too hot on the balcony. I take refuge in the bedroom. Stuart is much too comfortable to budge.
Labels: Asolo, Il Pranzo di Babette
I creep onto the balcony next door in my bathrobe to take pictures of the glorious moon. Its bright white light picks out errant clouds smudging a dirty blackboard sky.
No chance of shooting stars tonight. Super moon yes, meteors no.
We arrived a day late for Calici di Stelle, a week-long festival in the wine-growing regions of Italy to celebrate the year's vintage. Street parties celebrating the region's food and wine under the glorious skies of August- can a holiday maker ask for more?
I wonder how it fared this year though. With an August this wet and a moon this bright, shooting stars don't stand a chance.
Labels: Asolo, Super moon
It was pouring of rain when we arrived at Villa Cipriani but the sun is out now and I'm looking forward to tonight's super moon.
Maybe we'll get lucky with the Perseids meteor shower too. I'm so happy to be back in this magical place.
At the moment, we're having drinks in the garden. It may be too early in the day for happy hour- the sun is still riding high in the beautiful Veneto sky- but for me, anytime in Asolo is a happy time. Cheers!
Labels: Asolo, Villa Cipriani
My inspiration week has hit a snag.
The Park Hyatt bar closed two days ago for a whole month's renovation. Inspiration for my two new renovation projects in jeopardy.
Solution: tomorrow we go to Asolo.
Meanwhile, at the Park Hyatt, there have been other changes. Two new installations: a new GM and a new artwork at the lobby lounge.
The menacing mask-like sculpture that used to preside over the Cupola Lobby Lounge is gone. La Testa di Medusa by Lucio Fontana has been purchased by a guest, an avid collector of Medusa heads.
Shocked, I crassly ask Marco, the manager of the lobby lounge, how much? He promptly announced the sale price: a cool Four Million euros. Amazing.
I detested that testa; I thought it cheapened the elegant atrium. So much for my future in modern art curatorship.
In Medusa's place is a bright, shiny dish, a huge circle of faceted stainless steel by equally celebrated Anish Kapoor.
So is it an improvement on the departed head? After my ill-conceived and obviously ill-informed assessment of the former, I've decided to have no opinion on the matter.
Labels: Anish Kapoor, La Testa di Medusa, Lucio Fontana, milan
