Highs and Lows of a Family Trip to Italy
Mar 28th, 2011, 04:38 PM
#81
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"I decide to ignore the fact that beautiful young sales lady thinks wife needs extra-firming day cream, and enjoy the most fabulous moisturizer I’ve ever tried (goodbye Boots #7)!"
LOL! Thank you so much for this delightful trip report. DH and I are debating whether to bring our 13 and 15 year old sons to Europe, and this certainly puts it in a realistic perspective! I'm sure it will be a treasured family memory for all of you, and you'll tell the stories for years to come!
LOL! Thank you so much for this delightful trip report. DH and I are debating whether to bring our 13 and 15 year old sons to Europe, and this certainly puts it in a realistic perspective! I'm sure it will be a treasured family memory for all of you, and you'll tell the stories for years to come!
Mar 28th, 2011, 04:42 PM
#82
What a fabulous report! Can't wait for more
"Reading trip reports is better then chocolate, and yours is better then dark chocolate."
Love that - and I agree.
"I'd been more worried about the impression the gaudy red lipstick and pick sparkle handbag might make. "
"Reading trip reports is better then chocolate, and yours is better then dark chocolate."
Love that - and I agree.
"I'd been more worried about the impression the gaudy red lipstick and pick sparkle handbag might make. "
Mar 28th, 2011, 05:18 PM
#83
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We took a morning train to Florence, arriving about noon. The Florence I remembered from 30 years ago was romantic, with just a bit of an edge. The Florence I found in December was picturesque and comfortable. More “spruced up” from what I remembered. We stayed at Hotel Casci and it was a great choice for us. The kids were immediately comfortable in the relaxed, homey accommodations. We had again booked two rooms and while the furnishings were functional rather than fancy, the rooms were spacious and clean. The atmosphere is friendly but the hotel is not charming or romantic by any stretch. It’s a great place for families, and I’d certainly stay there again with kids because it feels comfortable and safe. This is largely due to the hotel staff who are friendly and helpful. However, there is a little rigidity in the diligent operation that may be off-putting to more independent-minded travelers. They ask guests, for instance, to give their room keys to the front desk before going out. They have a strict prohibition against hand washing clothes in the rooms (the better to actively promote their laundry service). Nothing too horrible.
The only real negative we experienced at Hotel Casci was an over-managed breakfast service. While the breakfast itself is quite good – I really enjoyed the soft boiled eggs – the woman who runs that part of the operation is, as my girls nicknamed her, “the Breakfast Nazi.” We somehow got on her wrong side the very first morning when DH and I showed up without the kids. She clearly had planned a table for 5 and was a bit miffed at having to rearrange things. The relationship never recovered. DH and I felt her eyes boring into our backs whenever we got up to help ourselves to seconds. DH nearly had his wrist slapped when he picked up something from a tray without using the proper utensil. While this nice woman – and she really did seem nice – bustled about getting more coffee and making sure everyone had what they needed, we felt a distinct chill when she checked on us. I verified our low status by noticing the freedom she gave to other guests to get their own coffee or boil their own eggs. She was right by my side the moment I ventured over to the egg cooker. After one scolding, DH and I didn’t even dream of touching the coffee machine.
The location is excellent, however, and this may be the best thing going for Hotel Casci. Not only is the Duomo a leisurely 5-minute stroll away, but there are a number of attractions to recommend Via Cavour itself. First, there’s the horror shop/museum. This is where DD1 picked up a bloody finger necklace and a bloody thumb key chain – both quite life-like (or rather, dead-like). There’s a glorious stationery shop where one can watch Florentine paper being made. There’s an international book store where DD2 – thank God – found an English copy of Harry Potter 5. There are a couple of gift stores with an assortment of reasonably priced scarves, gloves, and jewelry. There’s an excellent bar with tasty sandwiches and a bit of a Middle Eastern flair to the menu. There’s a superb wine and olive oil shop with the lowest priced “sexy” pasta we saw in Florence (DD1 and DD2 stocked up – this was the souvenir of choice for their friends back home). The Leonardo di Vinci museum is on this block of Via Cavour and DH reports that this is definitely worth a visit. Finally, the block is anchored by a McDonald’s (and DD3 reports that, in her humble opinion, this is worth a visit as well).
All in all, we enjoyed Hotel Casci. Just don’t get on the wrong side of the breakfast lady.
The only real negative we experienced at Hotel Casci was an over-managed breakfast service. While the breakfast itself is quite good – I really enjoyed the soft boiled eggs – the woman who runs that part of the operation is, as my girls nicknamed her, “the Breakfast Nazi.” We somehow got on her wrong side the very first morning when DH and I showed up without the kids. She clearly had planned a table for 5 and was a bit miffed at having to rearrange things. The relationship never recovered. DH and I felt her eyes boring into our backs whenever we got up to help ourselves to seconds. DH nearly had his wrist slapped when he picked up something from a tray without using the proper utensil. While this nice woman – and she really did seem nice – bustled about getting more coffee and making sure everyone had what they needed, we felt a distinct chill when she checked on us. I verified our low status by noticing the freedom she gave to other guests to get their own coffee or boil their own eggs. She was right by my side the moment I ventured over to the egg cooker. After one scolding, DH and I didn’t even dream of touching the coffee machine.
The location is excellent, however, and this may be the best thing going for Hotel Casci. Not only is the Duomo a leisurely 5-minute stroll away, but there are a number of attractions to recommend Via Cavour itself. First, there’s the horror shop/museum. This is where DD1 picked up a bloody finger necklace and a bloody thumb key chain – both quite life-like (or rather, dead-like). There’s a glorious stationery shop where one can watch Florentine paper being made. There’s an international book store where DD2 – thank God – found an English copy of Harry Potter 5. There are a couple of gift stores with an assortment of reasonably priced scarves, gloves, and jewelry. There’s an excellent bar with tasty sandwiches and a bit of a Middle Eastern flair to the menu. There’s a superb wine and olive oil shop with the lowest priced “sexy” pasta we saw in Florence (DD1 and DD2 stocked up – this was the souvenir of choice for their friends back home). The Leonardo di Vinci museum is on this block of Via Cavour and DH reports that this is definitely worth a visit. Finally, the block is anchored by a McDonald’s (and DD3 reports that, in her humble opinion, this is worth a visit as well).
All in all, we enjoyed Hotel Casci. Just don’t get on the wrong side of the breakfast lady.
Mar 29th, 2011, 01:56 PM
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What a joy to walk the streets of Florence at Christmas time! We head straight for Santa Maria del Fiore. We’re unabashed tourists in Florence: we ogle the street artists, eat freshly roasted chestnuts, get snookered into buying a “dancing” Mickey Mouse that is destined never to dance in our possession. We window shop and people watch.
Tourists swarm the piazza in front of the cathedral. Everyone is posing in front of the Duomo, in front of the Baptistery, in front of the gorgeous Christmas tree. I find the cathedral at its most breath-taking viewed from afar, but the massive interior can’t help but impress. We amble through the inside in a rather aimless way, when suddenly there is a booming “Si-len-ci-o!” “SILENCIO!” For a split second, it’s not unreasonable to think it might be the voice of God himself. The murmuring buzz stops instantly. We exit the church just as the sweet bells from the campanile start ringing.
We head down Via dei Calzaioli and walk right by another Disney store. Grrr. The momentum of the crowd keeps us moving forward, thankfully. Just as we’re stepping into a lovely piazza, a young man in a black leather jacket comes barreling through the crowd, glancing over his shoulder. He continues at a full sprint across the piazza. We’ve barely sorted out what we’ve just seen when another man runs through us in pursuit. The chase scene thrills the older girls; but I’m a bit disconcerted as I realize we’ve just entered Piazza della Signoria where poor Miss Honeychurch witnessed a murder in A Room with a View. No such unsettling scene of violence occurs, however. But perhaps Florence still has a bit of an edge, after all.
We get to the Uffizi. We made reservations through the hotel for Tuesday morning, but the bitter cold is starting to take just a teensy bit of the fun out of our ramble through town. A couple of hours in a museum seemed like a good idea. I’m directed to “Door 3” to change the reservation, but alas, I don’t have the reservation number on me. It’s in my useless notebook; or the notebook that I’ve left uselessly at the hotel. So we opt instead to go to a café for a cappuccino, hot chocolate, and a bite to eat. I really wish I knew the name of the place we stopped in, because I would like to tell you all to be sure to avoid it! It was inviting, it even had what appeared to be local customers inside, and the food LOOKED good….but it was truly awful. I didn’t know one could actually get such a thing as inedible pizza anywhere in Italy. I’m pretty sure it was somewhere on Via Lambertesca, so I would avoid any bars on that street, just to be on the safe side (yes, it was that bad). It WAS warm inside, and that was a reprieve, even if the hot chocolate was undrinkable.
After warming up, we continue on to the Ponte Vecchio. Stepping outside, we hear the coolest music – I can’t even describe it – if I could use the word “groovy” I just might. We come upon a slow moving procession – people are dancing, playing drums, singing. It’s like an amoeba, slowing moving, changing shape, this organic flow of people and music. As we make our way to the nucleus, we see it’s a band of Hari Krishnas. They’re scooping people into the dance circle, and DD3 is offered up. Her older sisters think that’s hilarious, and she goes around a few times before I’m able to rescue her. At the Ponte Vecchio, the shops are boarded up, but the view – that timeless treasure – is there for the taking. The wind is biting cold, though, and we don’t linger long.
Tourists swarm the piazza in front of the cathedral. Everyone is posing in front of the Duomo, in front of the Baptistery, in front of the gorgeous Christmas tree. I find the cathedral at its most breath-taking viewed from afar, but the massive interior can’t help but impress. We amble through the inside in a rather aimless way, when suddenly there is a booming “Si-len-ci-o!” “SILENCIO!” For a split second, it’s not unreasonable to think it might be the voice of God himself. The murmuring buzz stops instantly. We exit the church just as the sweet bells from the campanile start ringing.
We head down Via dei Calzaioli and walk right by another Disney store. Grrr. The momentum of the crowd keeps us moving forward, thankfully. Just as we’re stepping into a lovely piazza, a young man in a black leather jacket comes barreling through the crowd, glancing over his shoulder. He continues at a full sprint across the piazza. We’ve barely sorted out what we’ve just seen when another man runs through us in pursuit. The chase scene thrills the older girls; but I’m a bit disconcerted as I realize we’ve just entered Piazza della Signoria where poor Miss Honeychurch witnessed a murder in A Room with a View. No such unsettling scene of violence occurs, however. But perhaps Florence still has a bit of an edge, after all.
We get to the Uffizi. We made reservations through the hotel for Tuesday morning, but the bitter cold is starting to take just a teensy bit of the fun out of our ramble through town. A couple of hours in a museum seemed like a good idea. I’m directed to “Door 3” to change the reservation, but alas, I don’t have the reservation number on me. It’s in my useless notebook; or the notebook that I’ve left uselessly at the hotel. So we opt instead to go to a café for a cappuccino, hot chocolate, and a bite to eat. I really wish I knew the name of the place we stopped in, because I would like to tell you all to be sure to avoid it! It was inviting, it even had what appeared to be local customers inside, and the food LOOKED good….but it was truly awful. I didn’t know one could actually get such a thing as inedible pizza anywhere in Italy. I’m pretty sure it was somewhere on Via Lambertesca, so I would avoid any bars on that street, just to be on the safe side (yes, it was that bad). It WAS warm inside, and that was a reprieve, even if the hot chocolate was undrinkable.
After warming up, we continue on to the Ponte Vecchio. Stepping outside, we hear the coolest music – I can’t even describe it – if I could use the word “groovy” I just might. We come upon a slow moving procession – people are dancing, playing drums, singing. It’s like an amoeba, slowing moving, changing shape, this organic flow of people and music. As we make our way to the nucleus, we see it’s a band of Hari Krishnas. They’re scooping people into the dance circle, and DD3 is offered up. Her older sisters think that’s hilarious, and she goes around a few times before I’m able to rescue her. At the Ponte Vecchio, the shops are boarded up, but the view – that timeless treasure – is there for the taking. The wind is biting cold, though, and we don’t linger long.
Mar 31st, 2011, 06:23 PM
#88
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Shortly after checking in, the folks at Hotel Casci made dinner reservations for us at Trebbio’s -- not really asking our opinion so much as simply asserting that this was the best place to go. The trattoria is on Via delle Belle Donne, a mere 10-minute walk from the hotel. The helpful front desk manager pulled out a map and placed a dot where the hotel was, a dot where the restaurant was, and marked out the route from the one to the other. We set out at 6:45 for our 7:00 reservation. At ten after seven, we concede that we’re hopelessly lost. It’s been a comedy of errors, really, as each of us takes a shot at leading the rest of us in the wrong direction. I’m usually lead map reader, but I’m eventually relieved of my map reading duties by DH, who is soon fired by DD2. As we stand in the middle of a narrow side street pondering our next move, I’m convinced that the map has either left out some key streets, or the restaurant dot is in the wrong place. An American couple walking up the street hears us deliberating and tells us the restaurant is just around the corner; they had eaten there the night before. Ha! The dot IS in the wrong place! I feel at least partly vindicated. Later, I realize that our (ok, my) initial error was assuming that the tiny alleyway we were supposed to walk down couldn’t possibly be the “street” depicted on the map.
We’re 20 minutes late for our reservation, but it’s still early enough in the evening that they graciously seat us. The restaurant has wonderful character and we’re placed at a great table. The food is terrific. Up to now, the girls have stuck to spaghetti al pomodoro as the entrée of choice. Out of the blue, DD2 goes off script tonight and orders ribollita. (Yay! I silently cheer). I have been dreaming of ribollita since following MRand’s lovely account of his stay in Florence; but now, for some reason, I order something else. I suppose I want my daughter to enjoy the discovery on her own. The food is delicious (did I say that already?) and so is the wine.
It’s a fabulous evening – our best so far in Italy -- with lighthearted sparring, jokes, and general goofiness. We’re really enjoying the meal and each other’s company. We’re all laughing – really laughing! Until DD3 starts crying. At first, I think she’s play acting, intentionally being melodramatic. But no, she’s sobbing – really sobbing! “I miss Bubba,” she sputters. Bubba is the cute little giraffe my mother gave to DD3 when she was a baby. Up until now, Bubba has not held any more significance than the 30 other stuffed animals she has. “I miss Bubba,” she sobs. “I want to go home.”
I have no idea what brought this on and it’s completely unexpected. DD3 has got a bit of diva in her (could you guess?) and can be high maintenance at times. But as a traveler, she is very easy going. Any outing is an adventure. She was SO excited about coming to Italy, and we’re at the end of Day 6 and there has been no whining or moaning (from her, that is). I’m surprised now by the depth of her emotion. I had not paid attention to how overwhelming this type of trip must be to a younger child, even if it’s fun and exciting. This evening her sisters come to the rescue – instead of teasing, they join forces and escalate the goofiness until she’s giggling again.
Back at the hotel, I tell the girls the hotel has DVDs they can borrow. They make DD3 go down the hall to the front desk and ask. She comes back with the first Harry Potter movie. She’s never seen Harry Potter, but knows this is something her sisters would like. The three of them climb into one bed and DD3 is introduced to yet another new world.
We’re 20 minutes late for our reservation, but it’s still early enough in the evening that they graciously seat us. The restaurant has wonderful character and we’re placed at a great table. The food is terrific. Up to now, the girls have stuck to spaghetti al pomodoro as the entrée of choice. Out of the blue, DD2 goes off script tonight and orders ribollita. (Yay! I silently cheer). I have been dreaming of ribollita since following MRand’s lovely account of his stay in Florence; but now, for some reason, I order something else. I suppose I want my daughter to enjoy the discovery on her own. The food is delicious (did I say that already?) and so is the wine.
It’s a fabulous evening – our best so far in Italy -- with lighthearted sparring, jokes, and general goofiness. We’re really enjoying the meal and each other’s company. We’re all laughing – really laughing! Until DD3 starts crying. At first, I think she’s play acting, intentionally being melodramatic. But no, she’s sobbing – really sobbing! “I miss Bubba,” she sputters. Bubba is the cute little giraffe my mother gave to DD3 when she was a baby. Up until now, Bubba has not held any more significance than the 30 other stuffed animals she has. “I miss Bubba,” she sobs. “I want to go home.”
I have no idea what brought this on and it’s completely unexpected. DD3 has got a bit of diva in her (could you guess?) and can be high maintenance at times. But as a traveler, she is very easy going. Any outing is an adventure. She was SO excited about coming to Italy, and we’re at the end of Day 6 and there has been no whining or moaning (from her, that is). I’m surprised now by the depth of her emotion. I had not paid attention to how overwhelming this type of trip must be to a younger child, even if it’s fun and exciting. This evening her sisters come to the rescue – instead of teasing, they join forces and escalate the goofiness until she’s giggling again.
Back at the hotel, I tell the girls the hotel has DVDs they can borrow. They make DD3 go down the hall to the front desk and ask. She comes back with the first Harry Potter movie. She’s never seen Harry Potter, but knows this is something her sisters would like. The three of them climb into one bed and DD3 is introduced to yet another new world.
Sisters
Mar 31st, 2011, 08:47 PM
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Oh, that sister bonding made me a little teary! Don't we all just have times we have to break down a little? And to be an eight-year-old in a foreign place, well, even if it's incredibly exciting it can surely be overwhelming. What a fun memory for all your girls to have.
Apr 1st, 2011, 09:20 AM
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wayfinder,
Yes I have personally encountered inedible pizza twice in Italy! Once was across the street from the Vatican Museum entrance (I knew to expect bad food, but I was still shocked). Frozen, microwave pizza??? Terrible.
The second time was on the main street in Assisi. I watched them unwrap and microwave it. I ate a couple bites and left the rest.
Shame!
Yes I have personally encountered inedible pizza twice in Italy! Once was across the street from the Vatican Museum entrance (I knew to expect bad food, but I was still shocked). Frozen, microwave pizza??? Terrible.
The second time was on the main street in Assisi. I watched them unwrap and microwave it. I ate a couple bites and left the rest.
Shame!
Apr 1st, 2011, 01:51 PM
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Am back and what a wonderful wonderful TR!
"Just don’t get on the wrong side of the breakfast lady." Made me laugh as we got on the wrong side of our hotel's maitre d' when we thought we'd go to dinner at 9 (just like the Italians) and he was ready to get home early since the Americans always eat so early! We made him miss the football game. We made amends by going early another night and he became our best friend!
As long as we asked our breakfast ladies if we could come in, they were fine and said to sit anywhere. If we presumed, they swooped down on us. Very interesting!
Keep it going soon, please. Hope DD3 has a change of heart!
"Just don’t get on the wrong side of the breakfast lady." Made me laugh as we got on the wrong side of our hotel's maitre d' when we thought we'd go to dinner at 9 (just like the Italians) and he was ready to get home early since the Americans always eat so early! We made him miss the football game. We made amends by going early another night and he became our best friend!
As long as we asked our breakfast ladies if we could come in, they were fine and said to sit anywhere. If we presumed, they swooped down on us. Very interesting!
Keep it going soon, please. Hope DD3 has a change of heart!
Apr 3rd, 2011, 11:02 AM
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What a great trip report. It reminds me of our 1st trip to Italy. We had our 15 year old son with us. We took a picture of him staying at the hotel sleeping while DH and I left to tour the Vatican (pick your battles). We have a few pictures of me smiling and DS with a 15 year olds "snarl" on his face. He didn't buy my saying "it's all about the adventure". That was in 1997 and we have a good laugh at it now that he is an adult.
Apr 3rd, 2011, 12:43 PM
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Great trip report!!!!
I actually offered to take my DS (11 years old) to Italy with me this coming Fall so I could show him the wonders of Rome, and to visit my BFF in Italy. However, sadly, he does't feel quite ready to let go of the shirttails of DH and wants to stay home. I guess I will have to wait a few more years of going to Italy on my own (oh darn!)
I actually offered to take my DS (11 years old) to Italy with me this coming Fall so I could show him the wonders of Rome, and to visit my BFF in Italy. However, sadly, he does't feel quite ready to let go of the shirttails of DH and wants to stay home. I guess I will have to wait a few more years of going to Italy on my own (oh darn!)
Apr 4th, 2011, 12:32 PM
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camelbak, as much fun as I had with my family, I think my next trip will be solo!
travel, snarly or not, it's nice to know that they get a lot more out of it than they let on. I tried to preempt some of the resistance by having each person commit to the trip before we bought the tickets. DD2 almost derailed the entire thing saying she did not want to go over the Christmas break. As much as I wanted to rant and rave, I held off, and two days later, she changed her mind. I said that meant NO complaining, and got at least a half-hearted grunt in agreement. I have to say, I was very proud of how positive she stayed throughout the trip (she can be VERY cranky), and we got some great pictures of her smiling (I have precious few of those since she became a teenager). She was sure to point out, however, that on Christmas Day -- her absolute favorite holiday of the year -- she had peanuts for dinner. "Just saying." Well, I let that one slide too.
travel, snarly or not, it's nice to know that they get a lot more out of it than they let on. I tried to preempt some of the resistance by having each person commit to the trip before we bought the tickets. DD2 almost derailed the entire thing saying she did not want to go over the Christmas break. As much as I wanted to rant and rave, I held off, and two days later, she changed her mind. I said that meant NO complaining, and got at least a half-hearted grunt in agreement. I have to say, I was very proud of how positive she stayed throughout the trip (she can be VERY cranky), and we got some great pictures of her smiling (I have precious few of those since she became a teenager). She was sure to point out, however, that on Christmas Day -- her absolute favorite holiday of the year -- she had peanuts for dinner. "Just saying." Well, I let that one slide too.
Apr 4th, 2011, 01:04 PM
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DH has made himself handy by using the street view on Google Maps to locate the place where we had that horrible food for lunch during our first day in Florence -- it's on the corner of Via Lambertesca and Via Por Santa Maria. It says in large letters: "Self Service" and there is a yellow "Ristorante" sign down the corner of the building. Best to avoid. 
