Road trip to Turin and Milan

Off to the big cities in northern Italy by car, my fire engine red Suzuki Swift.  Brother Steve and sister-in-law Yoshie from Boulder came to visit me on the Mediteranean coast in France.  We wanted to explore some new turf: Turin, Lake Como and Milan. . Steve was supposed to share the driving, but, before arriving in France, he was pickpocketed in Florence.  Driver’s license gone, as well as credit cards and cash.  You can’t be too careful in Italy.

So, it was me behind the wheel.  The driving was challenging. Before the Italian adventure we set off on the mountain road (too many hairpin turns) to the spectacular site where husband Bob’s ashes are dispersed around a pilgrimage chapel.   Then, the dreaded Italian autoroute stretch from the French-Italian border, first towards Genoa:  114 tunnels and hundreds of monstrous trucks .  It would be a nail biter if you didn’t need both hands on the steering wheel.

Pilgrimage chapel, Moulinet, Alpes Maritimes, France.

Finding our hotels in central Turin and Milan was borderline nightmare.   These are big cities with lots of traffic and chaotic intersections – at times even too much for GPS.  I screwed up more than once.  Stress!  And, our sorry adventure to Lake Como.  We did see water, but the surrounding spectacular mountains were hidden in clouds.  The road to our lakeside hotel was narrow and curvy – and treacherous when we had to depart in a downpour, driving through many ponds on the flooded road.  

That would be more than enough. But the challenges were not over yet.  Steve and Yoshie returned to Boulder by plane.  I set out on the trek home in the Suzuki.  After 45 minutes of nerve-wracking driving, I made it out of Milan to the autoroute. Not long thereafter, the clutch died. My guardian angel was with me.  I got the car off to the side of the autoroute without being crushed by speeding cars and giant trucks.  The car was towed to a garage (where it still is).  I came home by train.

Driving aside, Turin and Milan are worth a visit.

Following are photo highlights or our journey

A major attraction in Turin is the Mole Antonelliana (left) and the National Cinema Museum which it houses (right).

My favorite, however, is the Egyptian Museum. It’s not Cairo, nonetheless fabulous.

Turin’s Mercato di Porta Palazzo is Europe’s largest open-air food market.

The decadent Bicerin: espresso, hot chocolate and whipped cream, is a Turin tradition. Aperol Spritz: the drink of choice these days, is everywhere.

Milan’s Duomo (cathedral) is dazzling. You can take an elevator to tour the roof, but only half way. Then steps, too many and yet another challenge for a handicapped old lady. But, she did it. Roof photo, right, by Stephen K.

Milan’s Galleria is also dazzling.

It’s not just Venice that has canals. Milan’s Navigli district with two canals is a hub of artisan shops, restaurants and bars.

We enjoyed this overwhelming collection of historic photos at a shop in Navigli. Steve bought copies of several.

Best meals of the trip: Florentine steak in the Quadrilatero area (lots of restos and bars) in Turin, and osso bucco with risotto Milanese in Milan. We also feasted on delectable pizza and pasta throughout our Italian journey.

Entrance courtyard of the University of Arts in Brera, an area of Milan where we came across an outdoor vintage clothing market: Gucci, Armani, Dior and more. Fun, but we resisted purchases.

Yoshie and I attended a concert in Milan’s renowned La Scala. A poser in the Galleria.

We met my friends from Germany, Ian and Trina, who generously treated us to lunch at a charming agriturismo. Danke. Grazie! They now live in Varese, a stop on our way to Lake Como.

No spectacular views from our hotel on the shores of Lake Como. The night before the clouds and fog rolled in, the moon and lights from passenger ships made for a pretty picture.

Steve’s video

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9 responses to “ Road trip to Turin and Milan”

  1. Oh wow! That was quite the series of unfortunate events. Do you have your car back yet?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. But, all turned out well. Yes, the car is safely back in my garage. However, in the future, if I decide to go to Turin or Milan, I will take the train. Both do merit a return.

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  2. Steve Koester

    I’ve been debating what to do with the rest of my life, but thanks to Tobi and Erika’s comments I’ve decided to become a social influencer.

    My favorite part of the trip with Leah was Torino, a city that feels somehow organic (I can’t think of another word), It’s scale is for people, it’s walkable, it has street cars, it has multiple open spaces, and in the inner part of the city it doesn’t seem to have any buildings higher than maybe six stories except for Mole Antonelliana, and one completely out of place condominium or apartment building. We had a surprisingly good dinner the first night at a little hole in the wall Peruvian restaurant and an absolutely horrible dinner at a “Japanese” restaurant run by a family from Mongolia. I thought my sister was going to die after eating the wasabi but she enjoyed the mochi ice cream.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. tsaidel

    Great photos, videos and stories. I also share the pain of driving in Italy. I think the Italian police are still after me! “Forgive me office…I donna speaka Italiano!”

    Great video Steve!

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    1. Thank you, Tobi. I like Steve’s video too.

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  4. happily64dfa75244

    Hi Leah What a wonderful and horrible story. So glad Yoshie and Steve visited you (it was a pleasure to met them in Boulder) Thanks for sharing the story, wonderful pictures and the lovely video from Steve. Hope you are fine after all this stress situations 🫣 you’re so adventurous. Take care, big hugs for you and Simba

    ********************************* Erika Niederer mit homesitting um die Welt

    unterwegs von Alaska nach Feuerland http://silverstar-on-tour.jimdo.com http://silverstar-on-tour.com

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    1. Always good to hear from you,Erika. You are adventurous with your Trusted Housesits near and far. Enjoy California,

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  5. Frances

    Leah, what an adventure! I’m so sorry Steve lost his wallet, credit cards and driver’s license, leaving you with all the driving. I have driven the roads in that part of Italy, so I feel your pain! What a trooper you are! And good for you making it to the roof of Il Duomo! Again, no easy feat! xo

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    1. As the saying goes, Sxxx happens. We all survived and had an enjoyable, interesting trip.

      Liked by 1 person

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Return to Germany

Like I remembered.  Idyllic.  We were surrounded by green, pure nature, at the Fischerhütte near Darmstadt, Germany.

Thekla, Andrea and Thiemo at the Fischerhuettte

Many, many years ago when I worked as a journalist at the newspaper Stars and Stripes, I lived not so far away.  I remember hikes to the hütte in the forest. I remember treks to secret places in that forest in search of the coveted steinpilze (boletus, cepes, porcini – whatever the name, the king of mushrooms). I remember the tranquility, the beauty of those woods.

It was wunderbar to return to Germany after so many years. I have missed Deutschland – old friends, favorite foods, the lush forests.

Trout for lunch at the Fischerhuette, and the best German beverage, beer.

Andrea, the daughter of an old friend, her husband Thiemo and her sweet mother, Thekla, led me down memory lane, not just to the Fischerhütte, but other special spots.  It was magical.

Many more memories were rekindled with friends in the Stuttgart area where I lived with husband Bob (RIP) for many years.

Gerlinde welcomed me in her Stuttgart home.  Like many of my friends, she is a foodie par excellence, even making her own yogurt and ice cream. She is also devoted to fitness and swims against the jet stream in her pool for 20 minutes every day.   I just swam, minus the jet stream.  

Gerlinde swims daily against a powerful water jet — Impressive.

We drove to Steinenbronn, past the apartment where Bob and I lived for 11 happy years. At a nearby restaurant, I indulged in my very favorite Swabian special, Zwiebelrostbraten (onion steak) with homemade Spaetzle.

I can’t complain about food on the Mediterranean coast where I now live, yet there is a shortage of ethnic eateries.

Not so in Germany where, among others, Turkish restaurants abound.  I miss those, too. Marianne treated me to lunch at her friendly neighborhood Turkish restaurant.  I wanted to bring those flavors back to France.

Then, that de rigeur German ritual, afternoon Kaffee und Kuchen (coffee and cake) at her apartment.   

Fun conversation and memories of good times enhanced all those luscious tastes. 

Marianne and Turkish delight

My friends indeed lavished me with generous and delicious hospitality.   Dagmar invited me and other friends to her home for a tasty lunch with a scrumptious raspberry cream dessert.  And, Heti invited us to a multi-course dinner of exquisite delicacies, each worthy of a magazine photo (photos below). This was especially remarkable as she had fallen and broken her wrist the day before.

On my last day we met in Bebenhausen. Bob and I were avid cyclists.  We liked to pedal from Steinenbronn to this tiny burg with an ancient monastery and an excellent restaurant.  It is still charmingly picturesque.  My last treat before heading home, another German delicacy:  Rehrücken filet (venison filet).  Delectable.

Living on the Mediterranean coast, I have the sea, palm trees, the Maritime Alps, tropical gardens – but no dense, enchanting forests.   I had not realized that I was forest deprived.  I was in awe of all the fabulous German greenery.

I mentioned this to Andrea, so we visited yet more. “I’ve never been to so many forests in one day,” she said.  Gerlinde told me that Stuttgart has more green space than any other German city.

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep…,” and a treasure.

Thank you, dear friends, I loved my return to Germany –especially seeing all of you.

Below: Heti’s superb creations. Each was mouthwatering.

I will add a new recipe next time. Meanwhile, for an easy, tasty dessert, try my recent discovery, RUM-SOAKED MANGOES. Sinfully delicious.

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Paris:  A cathedral, couture – and cows

Notre Dame. We had to see it. Who doesn’t remember TV images of flames ripping through the glorious landmark cathedral five years ago?  

That was then. Today. Wow! Considering the monumental damage from those flames and smoke, the interior is no less than miraculous.  It’s vibrant. It dazzles. It’s lofty, light and inspiring.

Friend Karen and I followed the line of visitors moving slowly through the nave.  We, and others, stopped to admire minute details which have been meticulously restored. We stopped  for photos.  And we stopped and stood and gazed, overpowered by the majesty of all.

We visited Paris in February. The weather was not pleasant (mainly gray and cold), nor was this the best time for special exhibitions at museums. One exhibit did receive lots of publicity: “Louvre Couture.” We went for it, but were somewhat underwhelmed.  Enormous, imposing rooms where enormous ancient tapestries hang provide a backdrop for fashions dating from 1961 to the present. 

It was impressive, as is the Louvre.  But, where were all the rooms with gorgeous furniture and fashion featured in publicity photos?  We backtracked, looking for doors, passages to other sections.  No luck.   We were no doubt lost in the Louvre and perhaps missed the best part, but we felt we had seen plenty of fashion.

There was more fashion of sorts at a Quai Branly Museum exhibit, “Golden Thread, the Art of Dressing from North Africa and the Far East.” Shimmering golden gowns by Chinese designer Guo Pei are over the top

I love this museum which offers a journey through the arts and civilizations of Asia, Africa, Oceania and the Americans. It’s fun and fascinating. 


“You don’t go to Paris to see cows,” a friend remarked.  We did, and my mistake. The International Salon d’Agriculture was on in the French capital. Years ago, friends went and raved about it. Besides, I love animals – maybe more than fashion. 

 It was a long, too long, Uber ride.  The “salon”was mammoth – pavilion after pavilion.  We zeroed in on animals – the most popular and crowded pavilion.  We did see some interesting species but probably not the best use of our limited time in Paris.  

We enjoyed a more worthwhile visit to the Centre Pompidou for the Suzanne Valadon (1865-1938) retrospective. Valadon was a notable female artist whose works are bold in color, blending realism and expressionism.  She focused on women, depicting them in everyday life.  

More fashion at the Dior Gallery.  And, more art at L’Atelier des Lumieres.  A 19th century iron foundry has been converted into a high-tech exhibition center where the works of famous artists are projected on the walls, floor and ceiling. Visitors sit on benches, on the floor, enveloped and mesmerized by the ever-changing art scene.  We were surrounded by masterpieces of Picasso and Henri Rousseau – a delightful and dynamic experience.  

This was my first visit back to my favorite city in six years. Back then I had normal mobility.  Sadly, due to a horrendous fall, I now have “limited mobility.” I limp and walk with a cane, but it could be worse. This trip was a test.  Can I travel as a cripple?

I can walk , do steps and cobblestones – slowly.  Karen, an avid and fast walker, patiently put up with me. Previously the Metro was the preferred way of transportation in Paris, but I was fearful. No one moves slowly in the metro.   Too risky.  I would be mowed down.   We traveled by Uber – also slow due to Paris traffic, but comfortable and interesting.

We traveled in Toyotas (many) as well a Mercedes, even a luxurious Lexus with soothing music and complimentary water. Fortunately, no Tesla.  The drivers came from around the globe: Tunisia, Morocco, Algeria, Togo, Guadeloupe, Guinea, Haiti, Brazil, Cameroon and Ethiopia.

 The journalist in me emerged.  I probably asked too many questions, but was curious to learn about their backgrounds. All seemed happy to oblige.  Selam from Ethiopia formerly had a travel agency in his country.  Ever since reading a friend’s account of a trip to Ethiopia, I have longed to visit.   Selam may help me plan a trip. 

I conquered Paris without a fall.  I passed the test. I can travel with limited mobility, but it’s comforting to be with a friend.  Thank you, Karen.

The legendary restaurant Bofinger is next door to the hotel where we stayed (see below). Noted for seafood and Alsatian specialities. The only mishap of the trip was the oyster I ate there on our last night. It did me in, wiped me out for a week, but fortunately not until I was home.

IF YOU GO . . .

Paris is popular year-round.  Even in dreary February we found lines everywhere.  For attractions and exhibitions, book tickets online in advance, a must. Even then, expect to wait in line.

It was drizzling the morning we visited Notre Dame.  We waited outdoors in line about 20 minutes, but the long line was constantly advancing. This may not be the case as the weather warms and the crowds grow.  There is no charge to visit the cathedral.  You can book an entry time slot on line. See web site, http://www.notredamedeparis.fr

Our hotel was about a two- minute walk from Place de Bastille.

We loved our hotel, the Bastille Speria, a small 3* hotel just minutes from the Place de la Bastille and the Bastille metro stop. Close to the Marais and Place des Vosges. Friendly, helpful staff. Clean, attractive rooms.  Ample buffet breakfast, (eggs, fruit, yogurt, cheese, meats and more) included in the price.  Free copy of the NYT in the mini lounge.

Hotel-bastille-speria.com or info@hotelsperia7.com

Karen(right) and I at Carette, Place des Vosges, a restaurant where I met a friend from Stars and Stripes days, Len Hill, and his partner Claudine. Good times — and delicious scrambled eggs, the restaurant speciality.

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At last I have a new recipe, broccoli salad, and need-to-know info on this amazing vegetable.


TODAY’S TASTE – Broccoli Salad

Broccoli is a winner in the healthy veg category.  It’s rich in vitamins C and K and other nutrients.  But — the best bonus is a phytochemical, sulforaphane, known as one of the most powerful anticarcinogens found in food.

Click on the picture for the recipe – and learn more about this amazing vegetable.
For more recipes, click here – and remember: comments are very welcome.


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13 responses to “Paris:  A cathedral, couture – and cows”

  1. Stay tuned for more more recipes.

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  2. Erika

    It’s so amazing that you did that adventure, I’m proud of you. Did you take this pictures with your phone? They are so beautiful. Thanks for sharing

    Erika

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It was so good to be back in Paris. Even in cold, gray winter, it was a joy. iphone fotos. Thanks for the compliment.

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  3. Karen

    Don’t forget, Leah…….As we discovered, because you are handicapped, we could use the priority lanes at all the exhibitions. Which meant, no long lines for you, and as I was your accompagnante, I also got to get in first, and even in some cases, free. Also, your press card helped. So, yes, I did travel a little more slowly than usual, but there were advantages to being with you. And, we had a good time, despite the weather.

    Lovely blog of an interesting and fun trip.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. We deserved the advantages. It was a plus to Jump the lines for sure. I am so glad we made the trip. Thanks for being my “accompagnante. »

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  4. so happy to hear that you are a travelling cripple!! Ha

    Sue

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Better to travel as a cripple than not travel.

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  5. Ortrud Hundertmark

    Hallo Leah ich habe,wie immer, deinen Reisebericht mit großer Freude gelesen. Deine Berichte sind immer sehr aufschlussreich präzise und spannend zu lesen.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Vielen Dank Liebe Ortrud. Hat Mich gefreut von dir zu hoeren. Paris hat Spass gemacht. Gruesse an Kurt.

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  6. Meg Downie

    A great read Leah. I’m itching to get back to France.

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    1. Thank you, Meg. Come and see me.

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  7. mkratage

    It’s great to see you traveling again, Leah, even if at a slower pace. Notre Dame looks fantastic. Your photos are always beautiful and explanations interesting. Marian

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    1. I was very happy to conquer Paris at a slow pace. It was a good trip, and Notre Dame is a sensation. Thanks for the comment, Marian.

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Discovering the marvels of MUD

Five days a week, beginning in the wee hours, Askit is on the job, filling buckets with deep brown, slimy, gooey mud. Therapeutic mud.

The husky, jovial native of Albania then pulls a cart with six heavy buckets of the yucky substance to the treatment area at the Hotel Residence, a spa hotel in Abano Terme, Italy.  He has been doing this for 30 years, he tells me with a hearty grin, then dumps a pail of mud onto a therapy bed.

Vanni, his Italian colleague, takes over, spreading the mud into one or more puddles on a bed in a small therapy room.  The room also has a shower for hosing off the mud and a deep tub for après-mud soaking in warm thermal water. 

Vanni motions me into the room.  I shed the hotel robe.  Mud treatments are not for the prudish.  This is naked body treatment, however miniscule thong “undies “of a gossamer-like paper are available.  

Vanni checks the soaking tub.

Vanni is a joy, always smiling.  I stop trying to cover my sagging boobs with my arm and follow his instructions to  lie on the bed, back positioned on the big puddle. He lathers me with mud, covers me in plastic, puts a blanket on top and disappears. The mud is hot initially, but soon deliciously warm. I stay that way for 20 minutes.  Vanni returns midway to wipe my face with a cool, moist cloth.

He started working at the hotel in 1979, he says, and now calls himself “fango meister,” German for mud master.  Many Germans previously patronized this spa hotel.  Vanni has mastered the language in addition to the mud.

I am a water rat.  The mud is pleasant, but I adored the soak in the hot, bubbling thermal water.   According to the Abano web site (abano.it), the water makes a long, underground journey from the pre-Alps.  Rain enriches it with mineral salts.  It is transformed and “classified as salted-bromide iodic hypothermal water.” 

Euganean Hills, Abano Terme photo

The mineral rich water is the secret ingredient of the mud. Abano is at the feet of the Euganean Hills, a region of prehistoric volcanoes in northeastern Italy. Clay is extracted from lakes in the area, filtered and purified, then left to “ripen” for at least two months in special tanks with the hot thermal water.  Not just hot, but scalding water which emerges from the ground at 75-90 °C (167-194°F). For pool use, it travels through a piping system and is cooled to 30-35 °C (86-95°F). 

The final mud product is natural therapy with a healing, anti-inflammatory and analgesic action.  It is said to stimulate cartilage restoration, enhance the immune system, as well as restore vitality and a mineral balance of the body.

Pool at Hotel Residence

The tub soak is a delight, but even better are the thermal pools, large indoor-outdoor pools with warm thermal water and powerful water jets. They are not meant for swimming, just relaxing and enjoying the soothing water.  I could have spent hours at the pool, but learned from experience that was not a good idea.  The recommendation is for 30-40 minutes maximum per session.  Of course, I disobeyed the first time, and then was completely wiped out. 

Abano has been a wellness destination since ancient times.  According to legend, the first settlement in the territory was founded by Hercules who is said to have restored his strength and health here after his challenging feats.

Romans were fans of water treatments and appreciated the healing properties of hot springs and mud from the valley.  More than 2,000 years ago, they built villas and settlements whose ruins are still prevalent in the area.

Sun beams and steam at hotel pool

This was my third visit to Abano. The first was in the summer (not recommended). See my previous blog, “Taking the waters – and the mud” for more details.

This past Christmas as well as Christmas 2023, I joined friend Angi for a 10-day visit to Abano.  Angi is a dedicated fan of the mud.  For years she lived in Rome and spent two weeks every year in Ischia, a volcanic island off the coast of Naples known for thermal springs and mud.  She had serious back pain following an auto accident which resulted in five fractured vertebrae.  The treatments “took away the pain and inflammation,” she says.

Friend Vera has been to Abano six times for “wellness, cooling out, relaxing… I enjoy it.  I enjoy the treatments,” she says.

I can’t say Abano made any difference with my numerous body infirmities following my disastrous fall and seven surgeries.   But it was sublime, a definite morale booster, a rewarding experience. For me, it did “restore vitality.”   I just may return next Christmas.

In addition to mud and water, I treated myself to massages and facials.  I spent an afternoon exploring nearby Verona.  I joined the excursion to Villa Selvatico, one of many villas, castles and abbeys in the surroundings.  I attended a church concert. And, I found bargains at the town’s weekly market. 

Food was another highlight – very good, varied, healthy.  Angi and I shared a table in the welcoming dining room. Fatima, an “angel” from Brazil, was our waitress. She brought us real cappuccino in the morning so we could skip the watery machine variety. She gave us advice on menu selections. Like most of the hotel staff, she was cheerful, helpful and fun to chat with.

Fatima

The town Abano Terme has a population of 20,000, but claims 250,000 visitors annually.  There are some 37 spa hotels of all categories offering pools and mud treatments, as well as other hotels and different accommodation possibilities.

My package included nine nights single room, three meals per day excluding drinks, unlimited pool and sauna use, plus bus transportation: 1,400 euros (about $1,500 at current exchange rate).  A doctor visit is required before beginning the program, 70 euros ($72). The doctor determines, recommends which treatments are best for each visitor.  I paid 35 euros ($36) for each mud wrap and tub soak; 70 euros ($72) for a heavenly detox facial; 75 euros ($77.50) for a 50-minute-deep tissue massage.   The latter were so exquisite, I had to have more — an anti-stress facial and another deep tissue massage.

Throughout the year, GB hotels, a group of five Abano spa hotels, organizes bus transportation from several  cities in southern France where I to Abano.

More information on Abano: www.abano.it.  More info on the four-star Hotel Residence and other Abano hotels at www.gbhotelsabano.it

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Intro to Europe 101

“It’s a blast.” He was enthusiastic, curious, at times in awe, and termed almost everything a “blast.” It was so much fun and gratifying to be with him, a blast for me too.

That’s my nephew, David Koester, who visited me recently, his first time to Europe.

David and Leah
Nephew David and Aunt Leah

“It was an eye-opening experience.  I’ve never experienced another culture before,” David told me during a recent phone conversation. “I’ve been raving about the trip ever since I got back.”

David, 39, is an account executive with Logicalis, an IT consulting firm. He lives with his wife Sabrina and 8-year-old son Jonah in Louisville, Ky.

 His buddy Matt had a business trip to Berlin.  They decided to meet in Switzerland for a few days.  He visited me in southern France prior to the Swiss rendezvous.

We had lunch here before David explored the old chateau in the Vieux Village of Roquebrune Cap Martin

His visit here was short, three days.  We were on the move.  First stop the Vieux Village (old village) of Roquebune Cap Martin. I live in the “new town.”

After an outdoor lunch in the town plaza, David explored, up to the old chateau, then up and down the skinny pedestrian alleys.  Since I am now walking with a cane, I stayed back.  “It’s so cool walking through these alleys, seeing the old architecture,” he remarked.

Old town Roquebrune Cap Martin

A favorite spot in the old village is the viewpoint overlooking Monaco.  Another day, a very rainy day, we ventured to the principality and opted for the hop-on, hop-off bus which gives a good overview of Monaco.  

Monaco

David, who is a financial wizard, informed me that Monaco’s Formula One makes more money than any other sporting event.   “It was cool driving over the starting line,” he said.

Roquebrune Cap Martin is adjacent to Menton, a Riviera town on the border with Italy.   It too has an old town, a maze of twisty alleys, as well as the imposing basilica of Saint Michael.  David visited all, as well as the city’s market, my favorite.  

The old town of Menton
David was impressed with Menton’s market hall. This is my bread stand where we bought some tasty goodies.

We crossed the border for an Italian snack at Grotta.  I love to stop there – Italian ambience, reasonable food and an enticing setting just above the coast.  

Another must is nearby Sainte Agnes, a medieval village classified as “one of the most beautiful villages in France.” Reaching the burg, said to be the highest coastal village in France at an altitude of 760 meters (2,493 feet), is not for the faint of heart. Follow a treacherous, narrow mountain road —  lots of hairpin turns and places where there is room for only one car.  Someone may need to reverse. Fortunately, David was behind the wheel. 

He drove my Suzuki Swift.  I was still recovering from the San Francisco broken wrist (see previous post, “I lost my money in San Francisco”) and could not yet drive.

He found driving in southern France “wild.”  He summed it up: “There are mopeds everywhere.  Everything is very tight.  You’ve got to be on our toes all the time…you need to be aggressive out there.” He did enjoy my humble car.  “I haven’t driven stick shift in ages,” he said. “It was fun.”

The views from Sainte Agnes are worth the trip. David trekked up a steep path to investigate the ruins of a chateau.

A steep path leads to the ruins of a 12th century chateau above Sainte Agnes
A medieval garden and cemetery are part of the chateau site.

Lunch was a treat, a multi course meal at a popular, rustic, local restaurant:  pork pate, followed by ravioli, and a main course of either wild boar stew or rabbit, all topped off with a slice of blueberry pie.  He ordered rabbit.  I went for the wild boar.  We shared.

For David, food in France is “phenomenal, awesome.”  He was impressed with the taste and presentation, and said it was much healthier than food in the U.S. 

The plan was to leave Sainte Agnes and continue up the mountain to Col de la Madonne, a mountain pass my super cyclist friend Bridget had raved about. The route is popular with serious riders on two wheels. 

We had three choices after leaving the village:  a road down to where we had come from, another with a sign to the town of Peille, and a third unmarked. GPS was no help.  We took the road less traveled – and too much adventure awaited.

No one has lived here recently — the only house we saw on our adventure into the hinterlands.

On and on we drove.  Nothing. No signs. Few other cars.  No civilization.  The road deteriorated.  Dirt. Bumps.  Pot holes.  Where were we?    We charged on until we came to a fork with a gate /barrier blocking  the road on the right.  Yet, according to David’s GPS (now working), we should take that road.  He got out and opened the gate.  

I was nervous.  This can’t be right. What if we get stuck?  We are alone in the boondocks.

 But on we went, deeper into nowhere. To my relief, my chauffeur decided to turn back and take the other road. There was little improvement, but it had to lead us out of this isolated back country.

Peille is another remote medieval village tucked in the mountains.

Hope: A sign to Peille, the town we had rejected when leaving Sainte Agnes.  We gleefully took it, and realized we were retracing much of the territory we had just covered. ??  This road was not much better than the others and nightfall was coming.  But, we were en route to civilization. 

Peille is old and picturesque, a cluster of stone buildings below the main road where we parked and then headed downhill to check it out.  Nothing was open except a funky, bar café.  Perfect. We loved the cozy ambience, the local vibe, and the well-earned beer.

Our salvation: A bar that was open.
Downtown Peille: old stone houses, vaulted passageways.

David was good natured about this fiasco.  He was a joy to be with – never complained and was thrilled with all. Mea Culpa.  I will not subject future visitors to the search for the Col de la Madonne. 

David continued to Switzerland where he spent a few days in the Grindelwald-Lucerne area with Matt.  He called the country “the most beautiful place I have ever been to.”  However, he found it very expensive.

The boys in Switzerland. Matt and David.

In an email after returning home, David wrote the following:

“I had such a great trip.  I think about it all the time.  It was so great to see you.  I’m so excited to come back.  I can understand why you made the life decisions you did.  Seeing the world is so much fun.  We are going to plan a family trip to Europe.”

I hope they will visit me.  I can’t wait.  I know it will be a blast.

David, Sabrina and Jonah

ALL PHOTOS ABOVE BY DAVID KOESTER

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MORE PHOTOS BY DAVID BELOW

David followed the coastal Corbusier trail near my apartment. The scenery is spectacular.
We split this veggie entree at a Menton restaurant. David found food here healthier than that in the U.S.
Peille by night
La Turbie, a town near Roquebrune.
Chateau in the old village of Roquebrune Cap Martin
Basilique Saint Michel in Menton.