Ten days in Italy
The chairlift ride up to the top of Mt Solaro, on the Isle of Capri
The time it takes from arriving at Rome's Fiumicino Airport to seeing my first accident: 20 minutes.I'm waiting for a bus outside Terminal 3 when a dusty Fiat runs into the back of a truck. Half an hour later, while surging through the dull Roman suburbs, I watch as a speeding BMW driven by an over-coiffured blonde careers into the side of a taxi. Cue high-pitched shouting and more hand gestures than a sign language conference.
"Italians drive like someone has tipped a glass of acid in their laps," laughs the bus driver who, it has to be said, is no slouch when it comes to shimmying past oncoming traffic in the wrong lane, yelling at slower drivers to "Dai!" ("Come on!") and giving me a rambling history lesson while rolling a cigarette and answering his cellphone.
But I didn't spend three flights and the better part of a day to be an accident statistic, so I'm pathetically grateful I won't have to drive for the next 10 days. Instead, the very safe Gianni will be taking me and 21 Americans, Brits, Australians and Kiwis from Rome to Florence, and then onto Venice, Pisa and the gloriously Instragammable Amalfi Coast on Insight Vacations' Best of Italy tour.
Here's how I spent 10 days in one of the most magical countries on the planet:
It might look serene now, but the scale of the killings that went on at the Colosseum never fails to shock
Day 1
Back in the 18th Century, when the tourism industry first hit Rome, most visitors took two years to see the Eternal City. We've only got two days so we focus on the big hitters.
We cross the Tiber to the Roman Forum, a sprawl of ruins that was once the centre of the Mediterranean world. Our guide Ilaria makes history come alive, pointing out the spot where Mark Anthony called on friends, Romans and countrymen and the unremarkable tomb of Julius Caesar.
Mist rolls in over the rooftops of Assisi, the birthplace of St. Francis (1181–1226), one of Italy's patron saints.
A toga's throw from here is the Colosseum where all sorts of blood was spilled in hideous battles between gladiators and animals, lions and elephants and women and dwarfs, cheered on by 65,000 spectators. Today, the only thing I want to slaughter are selfie sticks and their annoying users.
Although it's far too early for the evening passeggiata (stroll), we do our own around the back streets of the Eternal City. Our first stop is the Trevi Fountain, immortalised by Anita Ekberg's dip in the classic film La Dolce Vita. Thankfully, because it's almost winter, the crowds have thinned and we get the fountain mostly to ourselves.
Past the gloriously Baroque Spanish Steps is Via Condotti where stunning women prowl in and out of high-end shops, buying handbags worth more than my car. And then there's the Pantheon, the 2000-year-old Hadrian's temple-turned-church, whose 8.8m oculus, or hole in the roof, isn't a design flaw but was intended to connect the temple with the gods.
In Positano, on the Amalfi Coast, the pastel-coloured houses tumble down the hillside
Day 2
I once spent two hours queuing to get into the Vatican, only to tire of the crowds and leave before seeing most of it. Thanks to the magic of Insight Vacations, we're able to bypass the crowds and sweep through the Sistine Chapel, St Peter's Basilica and one of the world's greatest art collections. Sadly I don't have the word count to go into detail about any of these artistic and architectural marvels – if you've been there, you'll know what I mean and if you haven't, what are you waiting for?
We break for coffee and cornetto (the hugely calorific but addictive pastry-and-custard mashup that Italians love for breakfast) and I find the perfect present for my Catholic mother-in-law, a Papal lollipop I bet she'll never eat.
Our home away from home, which meant we didn't have to worry about hiring cars or parking.
And then it's all aboard for the three hour drive through an autumnal Tuscan countryside burnished yellow and red.
Day 3
The last time I visited Florence, I was a 20-something backpacker in love with a gorgeous Italian boy I'd met in London. Of course the relationship didn't last, but time has been kind to the city pinned to the banks of the Arno River. Not only does it look a lot cleaner than I remember, but the queues aren't nearly as bad (again, because we're visiting outside peak season).
If you see only one artwork in Florence, let it be Michelangelo's David.
We start our exploration at the Galleria dell'Accademia, where Michelangelo's 5.16m high statue of David has been thrilling visitors on this spot since 1873 (it was actually hewn from an enormous block of marble in 1504).
Like so much of Italy this city is an embarrassment of riches – galleries, tiny shops selling buttery-soft leather goods and of course the city's landmark, the Duomo, a marble monument to medieval Florence that took 150 years to complete. After the gobsmacking facade, the vast interior comes as something of a surprise – most of the artistic treasures have been removed and the day we visit, it's filled with bored school children looking for some peace to shatter.
But having filled our memory cards with the impressive 14th Century exterior and red-tiled cupola, we head to one of the city's newer treasures, a branch of Eataly, the Italian restaurant/bakery/food store/cooking school chain that has since spread to the US and Japan. I eat a brassica pizza the size of my head which tastes much better than it sounds, and watch stylish Italians fill their trolleys with fresh Mozzarella and smelly sausages.
Gondoliers ply their trade beneath Venice's famous Bridge of Sighs
Fortunately, I saved room because dinner tonight is at the 6th-century Villa Le Maschere, 32km from Florence, where we scoff far too many calories (in the form of steaming bowls of pasta and creamy tiramasu), washed down with Chianti while being serenaded by a local singer who should be on Italy's Got Talent.
Day 4
If it's Wednesday, it must be Pisa. We do the short drive to the coastal town of Pisa to gawp at the Torre Pendente (the Leaning Tower) which seems smaller than I remember, but also a lot cleaner. There's still the same knot of tourists, pretending to 'push' the structure back into place in the cheesiest photo ever.
Rome's Spanish Steps, as seen from one of the world's most exclusive shopping streets, Via Conditti
We cross the winding Apennine Mountains, which runs up the middle of Italy, dropping down into the fertile Emilia-Romagna region, before heading to the watery delights of Venice where we arrive at our hotel in style on a classic wooden water taxi.
And then we do what everyone does in Venice – get completely and utterly lost. But it matters little – La Serenissma is made for aimless wandering and discovering treasures tucked into the labyrinth of twisting, cobbled alleyways.
Day 5
There's a church on every corner in Rome
Venice in winter is a different city – the cruise ships have gone, the light is amazing and atmospheric mists roll in. We admire the pink marble facade of the Doge's Palace and stop to photograph the Bridge of Sighs, where Casanova made his daring escape. Around the corner is St Mark's Basilica, the impossibly grand cluster of onion domes, Gothic spires and luminous mosaics.
We refuel at Caffe Florian, which opened in 1720 and has presumably been overcharging ever since, before jumping into a gondola for a ride up the magnificent Grand Canal (if it's good enough for George Clooney). The 3.5km route passes six churches, locations from four James Bond movies and 50 palazzi (mansions) where, had my life had turned out differently, I could well have imagined living.
Day 6
We're back into the Apennines for the journey to Assisi, a post-it-note sized town built more for mountain goats than pedestrians. Thankfully our suitcases are delivered to our rooms, leaving us to puff our way up the winding Mount Subasio to the upper town.
Local guide Marco leads us through the 13th Century Basilica of St Francis, where frescoes by Giotto heralded a new era in Italian art. Marco is fascinating, and his jokes about 200-year-old monks wearing Birkenstocks draws much laughter, but all I can think about is how the church would hold up in an earthquake (the recent quakes, not too far from here, killed at least 247 people). Thankfully, the ground behaves.
Day 7
Most of today is spent driving south. Once again, I'm pleased I'm not behind the wheel when we follow the wiggly road that teeters high above the Mediterranean; the views are spectacular but the corners are blind.
Towards evening we arrive in the postcard-pretty town of Sorrento, which most visitors use as gateway to the pastel-coloured villages of the Amalfi Coast. But it's worth spending time in this small-but-perfectly formed settlement that retains a laid-back charm.
Day 8
It's a short stroll to the port for our ferry to the Isle of Capri, where white-washed buildings tumble down sheer limestone cliffs and chic Italian women with over-sized sunglasses make us wish we'd packed better.
We drive uphill to Anacapri and catch the slightly dodgy chairlift to Mt Solaro (health and safety isn't quite the thing here it is in New Zealand) where we're greeted by stray cats who stretch their furry bodies out in the weak winter sunshine. But the lookout provides spectacular 360 degrees views of the island and the limoncello, made not too far from here, goes down a treat.
We catch the boat back to Sorrento and drive possibly the world's most scenic 50km of asphalt – the Amalfi Coast. In Positano, our bus struggles to fit around hairpin bends, where multi-coloured houses rise from the sea like tiers of a wedding cake. We dip our toes in the chilly Med and eat gelato that's like taking a bite out of a warm summer's day.
Day 9
Our last full day sees us drop into Pompeii, the city buried under six metres of ash when nearby Mt Vesuvius popped her top back in 79AD. Our ridiculously good looking guide Georgio leads us up and down the ghostly remains, including remarkably intact houses, shops and baths. Georgio seems to have somewhat of a fetish with the sexual proclivities of the time, delighting in showing us brothels and phallic roadside signs that have us giggling like schoolkids.
All roads apparently lead to Rome, and by late afternoon we're checking into the same hotel where we started our roadtrip. Goodbyes are said, emails are exchanged and last suppers had.
Day 10
I'm lucky enough to have hours to kill before my flight, so I double back to the Spanish Steps, eat more cannoli that is advisable and offload the last of my last Euro in this most magical city.
It doesn't matter if, like most of my fellow passengers, you're a first time visitor to Italy or, like me, you've been here before: a 10 day jaunt is like a tasting platter, providing a delicious sample of some of the country's highlights. And you won't have to get behind the wheel once….
More information insightvacations.com
Touring there Insight Vacations' Best of Italy premium escorted journey starts in Rome with the option to end in Naples or Rome. Departure dates year round. Priced from $3775 per person twin share with savings of up to 7.5 per cent available for bookings and payments prior to February 23, 2017. Includes luxury accommodation, sightseeing, meals, transfers, transport and the services of an experienced tour director.
The writer was a guest of Insight Vacations.
- Stuff
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