A Brief Introduction to
Our Favorite Places

Let us begin with a disclaimer: Although we are clearly Italophiles, closely followed by our love for France, we are, above all, fervent and dedicated travelers. I have always felt that a unique adventure was about to begin whenever I got in a car, on a train and yes, even an airplane. Our country, the United States of America, is so varied and beautiful, that it would certainly take a lifetime to visit it properly; from the rugged and sometimes forbidding Maine coast, to the huge forever wild Adirondack State Park in upstate New York (from which, in an old cabin on the shores of one of its many, many lakes, I am writing this), to the sultry Gulf Coast with its almost impossibly gentle and kind people and exotic food unlike that of any other place in the country, to the vast, fertile plains of the Midwest, still giving most of us our daily bread, to the amazing stretch of Pacific Ocean coast, stretching over 1,000 miles from the Mexican border to the Canadian---all of this country demands to be explored. But life is short and choices must be made. When I first traveled to Europe as a teenager, something in me responded to the sights, the sounds, the taste of food and more than anything else, the fact that the people, who seemed so similar to me, also were so different.

Most of our rental properties are in Italy and France. There is a reason for this; our business, from the day it began as little more than a dream over 25 years ago, has been a labor of love. It has been and continues to be great fun and the countries to which I have returned dozens of times during these years have been Italy and France. I offer no excuses for these choices, but I also love other places and have chosen a select few properties in the Republic of Ireland, in the United Kingdom, and in Spain, Portugal and Greece, that I think satisfy the very exacting requirements I have for all of our properties. Every so often, we are offered a property, outside of our usual geographic range, that is so delectable, that it would be impossible to say “no” to the offer. Such a property is a magnificent riad in Marrakesh, Morocco. We rarely rent this place; it is both very expensive and perhaps a bit too exotic for most of our clientele, but I continue to represent it just because it reminds me of one of my most memorable journeys---10 days I spent in Morocco nearly 30 years ago.

ITALY: A Too-Brief Introduction

Many of you have made the traditional tour of the triumvirate of Italian cities, Rome, Venice and Florence, but far fewer have experienced the enormous diversity of the Italian countryside. Italy’s instantly recognizable boot shape is encircled by the Adriatic, the Ionian, the Ligurian, and the Tyrrhenian Seas, all part of the Meditteranean Basin. Not only is the land amazingly varied for what is, in reality, not a very large country, but offshore lie the enchanting islands of Sicily, Sardinia, Capri, Elba, the Aeolian Islands, to name but a few. Mountains feature prominently in Italy’s geography; the backbone is formed by the Apennines, extending from Genoa all the way down to the toe of Calabria. There are about 750 miles between the Alps in the north and Sicily in the south, and the distance between Venice and Rome is about the same as between Los Angeles and San Francisco, yet in this relatively short distance are differences that are nothing short of mind-boggling; Italy is, by our standards in the United States, not a very large country, but the diversity, from north to south, from east to west, would be difficult to imagine anywhere else. Start at the northern lakes, Como, Maggiore, and Orta, all relatively close to perhaps the most cosmopolitan of European cities, Milan. This is an immensely scenic and appealing area and now, with the very public purchase of a luxury villa by a well-known American movie actor, the lakes have become a popular destination for Americans. (They have been such for Italians, Germans, Swiss, and Austrians, for centuries.) It was not very long ago that the sine qua non of having “made it” in Hollywood was the purchase of a pile of Tuscan stones and the hiring of Italian craftsmen to remake this centuries-old, rather humble farmhouse into a grand residence which might seamlessly take its place along the houses dotting the hills of Pacific Palisades.

Blame the continuing pre-eminence of Tuscany as “the” destination in Italy on the British, who long ago discovered Florence and its region of Tuscany. To this day, this region has remained overwhelmingly the most popular tourist destination in Italy. There are very good reasons for this, as this central region is unquestionably the seat of much of learning, art, culture, and food, of the modern Western world. (For a highly personal, and somewhat contrarian view of Florence, my short essay appears elsewhere on this Web site.) It seems terrible to slight the wonders of the rest of Italy, from the magnificent Palazzo Ducale of Urbino, to the astonishing mosaics in Ravenna, dating from the 6th century rule of the Gothic emperor Theodoric, to the temple to the Olympian god Jove, in Agrigento, in Sicily,dating to approxiomately 480 B.C, the culinary and other joys of Bologna, the unsurpassed beauty of the Costiera Amalfitana, the magical, secluded Portofino with its impossibly large yachts filling a rather small harbor,. Yet we always return to Tuscany and its neighboring region of Umbria. Who has been to Siena and not marvelled at its Campo, perhaps the most perfect square in all of Europe; read “A Summer’s Lease”, John Mortimer’s hysterically funny novel about a family’s unlikely adventures in a rented villa in the Chianti Classico and then be motivated to follow the “Piero trail” to see the works of the earliest master of the human form, Piero della Francesca; work your way through the masses of people to marvel at the towers of San Gimignano, where medieval merchants erected 72 impossibly tall towers as proof for all their neighbors to see of their success in the material world. (Of the original 72, only 15 still stand today---the wealthy San Gimignese merchants had a bit too much faith in their architects----but they are still something to behold.) There are undiscovered gems in Tuscany, among them Volterra with its Piazza dei Priori, one of the loveliest of medieval squares in Europe, still hosting weekly markets, as it did in the 9th century. Then on to Umbria, with Assisi and the wonderful stories of St. Francis, our favorite saint, told by the sublime Giotto, then to Perugia, where it is possible to take a one-day course in chocolate at the famous factory of Perugina, whose ‘baci’ are a treat not soon forgotten; Orvieto, home of the magnificent cathredral, and still surrounded by the ancient tufa, perfectly preserved from Etruscan times, and around Lago di Bolsena to Todi, now a gathering place for American artists and although one is as likely to hear a Texan as an Umbrian in that wonderful town square, for me it still remains an almost perfect Italian hill town.

We have only scratched the surface and although there is great diversity in Italy, there is a unity here as well; the term “La Dolce Vita” has by now become a cliché, but there is much to be said for the sweet life as lived by the Italians. The day almost always begins with a coffee, in one of its almost infinite manifestations, and a sweet pastry, albeit a small one (so small, often, that we can fool ourselves into thinking that it is virtually without calories), most often taken at a neighborhood “bar”, catching up on the previous days sports scores, political shenanigans, and local gossip. This ritual takes place in Rome and Florence, but it is best experienced in the small towns, as is the passegiata, the strolling of the young and old---but never together---that is a vital part of village life in the evening. There is good and bad news about a trip to Italy; the good news is that you will return energized, having consumed exceptional food, drunk a wide variety of outstanding wine, and having, even without trying, connected to the openness of the people; the bad news is that there will be so much that you have not done. And this leads to another bit of good news: You will return sooner than planned, to pick up where you left off.

A Contrary View of Florence: Is it a "Must See"?

There is no denying that Florence was the true seat of the Renaissance; the city is filled with examples of that period, whether it is architecture, or painting and sculpture or other significant sites, e.g., the Ponte Vecchio, the sole remaining bridge over the Arno, the only one not destroyed by the retreating Germans during the last War. There are wonderful lesser known spots, such as the café-filled area around the church of the Santo Spirito Novella, not far away are the Medici’s Boboli Gardens.

But there is a significant downside to all this: Although I possibly risk being drawn and quartered for saying this, I approach each visit to Florence with trepidation. One can not help notice the lines of tour buses, pouring out tourists of all nations, who are quickly pursued by the hawkers of all manner of products, some of them genuine Florentine crafts, others clearly knock-offs. While there is no denying the glory of the Uffizi, the brilliance of Michelangelo’s David, the sublime dome of Brunelleschi’s Duomo, there is something a bit artificial about the whole experience. Florence has become a bit too modern, using its glorious past almost exclusively as a magnet for the almighty tourist dollar (or yen). Despite this, you will go there, because you will be embarrassed to admit to your friends that you did not. But try to do it early in the morning; leave your rental property after breakfast, park at Oltrarno (the “wrong” side of the river), walk to the center, limit yourself to a few sights, have a snack at a panetteria, or a gelato at Vivoli----whose gelati are, in my view, more than a bit overrated ---find the car and get out in time for your afternoon nap and then an evening of enjoying the Tuscan countryside.

France

For some, France is a distant memory of a school trip to Paris, a giddy ascent of the Tour Eiffel, a glance at Notre Dame, and a love-hate relationship with that finest of all the museums in the world, the Louvre. But France is so much more than its capital; like Italy, it is a land of startling contrasts, wonderful scenery, warm people---do not believe all you may have heard about the aloofness of the French, it simply isn’t true---- and infinite charm. [Remember that silliness of a few years ago when we thought that it would be best to change the name of those skinny potatoes so beloved by patrons of McDonald’s, et al., to “freedom fries”? Are the French chauvinistic? Indeed they are, but what about New Yorkers. San Franciscans, Chicagoans, Floridians? I have a suggestion for settling the controversy: Sit down with a native in the wonderful, almost perfectly-preserved medieval town of Sarlat in the Perigord Noir, open a bottle of St. Emilion, from a vineyard about an hour’s drive from Sarlat, and try to decide which is more sublime, the artery-clogging cassoulet from that region of France or the artery-clogging fried chicken from Charleston, South Carolina. When the bottle is finished, I assure you that both of you will be winners.]

France is a large country, certainly by European standards. It stretches from Normandy and Brittany, just the other side of the Channel from England, down the valley of the Loire, with its chateaux which still today cause us to marvel at their size and magnificence, scarcely able to believe that Chenonceau, Amboise, and Chambord, once were the homes of actual people. We will be leaving out much, by jumping to the two areas which we favor, the southwest (the Dordogne, Bordeaux, the Pyrenees) and the southeast (Provence, Languedoc, the Cote d’Azur.) What has been omitted? The little known Atlantic Ocean beaches of the Vendee, with its micro-climate that keeps the water and the weather warm in months when much of interior Europe is dressed for winter; the Auvergne, the wild land of the Massif Central, where Robert Louis Stevenson took his famous hike with a donkey---and wrote a charming story about the trip, Alsace, partaking both of Germanic preciseness and French cuisine and if you think of Reisling as a semi-sweet desert wine, you are thinking about the German side of the railroad tracks, for French rielings are wonderfully fruity bone-dry wines, which still remain a relative rarity in wine shops in this country; the Savoie, home of some of the best skiing in Europe, with Val d'Isere rivaling St Moritz in Switzerland and Cortina d’Ampezzo in Italy.

The Southwest

Perhaps the best known area of France is what is, rather loosely, known as the Dordogne, after the magnificent river that forms one of three that flow through this area. For nearly 300 years this was the bloody battlefield in the war (strangely enough called the Three Hundred Years War) between France and England. There are more castles in this part of France than in any other; frequently they are perched high on hills, looking down on the rivers below. From the ancient castles that saw fierce battles in the Middle Ages to the castle of the mysterious and beautiful Josephine Baker, to the caves where prehistoric man painted magical paintings of life tens of thousands of years ago. (Unfortunately, due to the fragile nature of these paintings, the caves are closed to the public, although trips through “replica” caves are quite interesting) The Dordogne is still an area that remains largely untouristed, but try to avoid July and August, if possible, when hordes of British, many of whom have bought and restored lovely stone houses in this region, flock here with their car trunks filled with Marmite, Cornish pasties, and “real” ale. To be sure, one needs to start a diet regimen about two weeks before a visit to this region because this is the land that nouvelle cuisine forgot; truffles, goose and duck, walnuts, crepes, and on and on. (None of that sounds too fattening, you are thinking. Ah, I forgot to mention that everything, yes everything, is cooked in duck fat. Absolutely, stunningly delicious, but those calories go directly to your hips,, buttocks and anyplace else that seems a likely host area.) The wines of the southwest, with the exception of the many brilliant wines of the Bordeaux chateaux, are not well-known in this country. How many of you have tasted the memorable Monbazillac, the smooth and golden desert wine of the area? Not to be missed, taken with a simple desert of walnut torte., or the even simpler piece of fruit. You won’t believe me until you’ve tried it, but it seems as if the pear was invented solely to be consumed while drinking a glass of Monbazillac.

Let us not forget the Pyrenees, with scenery and climate for almost everyone, from the ocean beaches of St. Jean de Luz and Biarritz, to the great mountain range of the Bearneaise Pyrenees, where the Pic du Midi d’Ossau rises to over 9,000 feet, yet is a relatively easy ascent for a group, so long as there is one experienced climber along.. This is also the land of the Three Musketeers, Porthos, Athos, and Aramis, who despite what you may think, were not figments of Dumas’ imagination, but real life members of the bodyguard of Henry IV, the first Bourbon king of France, who was born here.

The Southeast

No one loved Provence more than the Romans; when they left this province of the Empire, they left behind great monuments to their wealth and power. Many of these are within the department of the Gard; the town of Uzes is a lovely medieval gem, with its narrow arcaded streets and Italianate towers. In the village of Villeneuve-sur-Avignon, one can see across the Rhone to Avignon itself, which was for a time the seat of the papacy and where cardinals built magnificent summer residences, many of which are intact today. To the west of the Rhone is the Pont-du-Gard, a great Roman aqueduct, and on to Nimes where the temple and ampitheatre are perhaps the finest extant examples of Roman ruins anywhere in Europe. A close second must be the arena at Arles, and the lovely dual town of Vaison-la-Romaine, with its “new” town below the marvelously crenellated lump of old Vaison rising up above the plain in the northernmost section of the Vaucluse.

To the east is the charming Luberon, made famous by Peter Mayle (“A Year in Provence”, the must-read before the rather similarly named, Frances Mayes wrote her “Under the Tuscan Sun” which spawned not only a Hollywood movie with the lovely Diane Lane playing the rather dowdy Ms. Mayes, but an entire Tuscan industry!) For years, a patchwork of stone houses, most in various states of disrepair, this all changed when Mayle’s Provence became the “hot” destination in Europe. Perched villages abound in this area and in the heat of the mid-summer sun, only the gurgle of a fountain or gentle swishing sound of lizards, their midday siesta interrupted by an enemy, real or imagined, is all that can be heard. When the late afternoon arrives, the streets again become alive, with cafes filling up and the men of the villages bringing out their heavy metal boules, to play as they have for centuries, a game also known as petanque, virtually identical to the Italian bocce.

We would indeed be remiss if we failed to mention the fabled Cote d’Azur, the French Riviera, which starts just to the southeast of Cannes and ends at Menton, just minutes from the Italian border. Although most of the attention has been paid to the fashionable and sophisticated resorts on the sea, mixed in are small villages, filled with tropical plants and trendy, yet casual shops, with small restaurants serving their meals on outdoor patios for at least six months of the year. The area is filled with interesting art museums, for many of the modern masters of French painting lived and worked here and drew their vision from the unique landscape and flora. In fact, there is an inn/restaurant in the Alpes-Maritimes, just north of the coast, that has a most magnificent collection of these artists and the owner paid for none of them. There was a time when Matisse, whose works today fetch many millions of dollars, could not afford an omelette and a salad, so he paid for his meal at the restaurant with a painting!
The Cote d’Azur is not only Nice, Cannes, and Monte Carlo; it is also the much quieter departement of the Alpes-Maritimes, where the villages of Grasse, St. Paul de Vence, Mougins, Tourrettes-sur-Loup, to name only a few, .seem to avoid the monstrous traffic jams that wend their way----well, they barely wend---along the coast road.

It must be said that in recent years, visiting France seems to have fallen somewhat out of favor with many Americans, perhaps owing to what is perceived as the arrogance of the French government in asserting its independence from the American world hegemony. A pity it is that this has happened; France is too beautiful, too important, its people too intelligent and kind, to be left out of the American tourist loop. We hope, and not only for impure, monetary motives, that an equilibrium will return soon and Americans will again be filling the cafes and bistrot of Paris, as well as the charming towns of country France.