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Retired in Rome Journal: Shopping and cooking in Rome a gastronomic Disneyland

The Campo dei Fiori public market around the corner from my apartment.

I became addicted to public markets during my first stint in Rome from 2001-03. Mercato Trionfale was a sprawling open-air food bazaar not far from the Vatican. I got to know the Cheese Boys. I fell in lust with the Olive Goddess. I chatted up the Pasta Princess. It’s a great way to shop. You go to one stand for your cheese, another for your sausage, another for your bread. Then you stop at a tiny alimentari and get a bottle of decent Chianti for 2.50 euros.

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Retired in Rome Journal: The new apartment in a pre-Renaissance building

Retired in Rome Journal: The new apartment in a pre-Renaissance building

It’s an odd sensation driving with all your present and future possessions to your next home for two months. That’s not a long time but for a traveler it’s a lifetime. You become friends with the cafe owner and the cheese vendor, the newspaper salesman and your neighbor. Moving into an apartment sight unseen is like parachuting into a different planet with no escape.

Fortunately, no escape necessary. In fact, throw away the key. I’m home.

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Retired in Rome Journal: A welcome home to the city of my dreams

Peter Bloom, moi and Gretchen Bloom at La Taverna dei Fori Imperiali upon my return to Rome.

I’m not into omens much. Man determines his own fate. That’s why I’m sitting here in Rome, my life’s remains enveloped in the five bags that surround me as I await passage into my new apartment. An early retirement that has baffled friends and foes alike has taken me to Rome, site of the wildest 17 months of my life and hopefully home of many more to come.

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Puglia journal: Trip to gorgeous Adriatic beach is a true recycling affair

The gorgeous beach north of Otranto, just before tourist season.

SATURDAY, MAY 12 – OTRANTO, ITALY There’s a bottle of ice cold water near my laptop that I would’ve given five years off my life or my left testicle last night if it was available. I’m so dehydrated I don’t know if I felt worse this morning or yesterday when I had the vicious hangover. […]

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Puglia journal: The Puglia milk run consists of seven connections and 11 hours

My hotel in Otranto, the Bacconcino d'Oriente.

FRIDAY, MAY 11 – OTRANTO, ITALY I take back anything good I’ve said about Italian wine. They don’t need preservatives and phosphates, the mine fields of American wine, to produce a nuclear explosion in your frontal lobe. I’m writing this with one eye closed. It’s to lessen the pain from a savage hangover from the […]

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Puglia journal: Vieste a romantic hideaway on the spur of Italy’s heel

Cheese vendor Costanzo Laprocina with a backdrop of caciocavallo cheese in his shop in Vieste, Puglia

TUESDAY, MAY 8 – VIESTE, ITALY Sometimes in travel you find yourself in such an idyllic place that you think you’re the only person in the world this happy. This is one of those times. I’m on the rooftop of Rocca Sul Mare, my hotel here high above the Adriatic Sea. The rooftop is barebones, […]

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Porto Journal: A day trip to lovely Pinhao

Pinhao's 700-year-old stone bridge.

TUESDAY, MAY 1 Living in the States sometimes I forget the simple facts of Southern Europe. Take the siesta. Or pausa. Or mid-day break. I completely forgot that some countries completely shut down. In rural Portugal, you might as well not leave the hotel. From 3-6 everything is closed. So what time did I take […]

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Porto Journal: A true slogging tour of port wineries

Calem winery in Porto.

MONDAY, APRIL 30 Now I know why Porto takes like grape juice but wallops like grappa. It’s filled with brandy! The fucking Brits used to put brandy in their wine to preserve it for shipping. The brandy they use is 78 percent alcohol. That’s just one of the little tidbits of information I heard on […]

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Porto Journal: Cheap wine with high alcohol, a deadly combination

The distinctive blue tile azulejos design in Porto's train station.

SUNDAY, APRIL 29 It’s 11:07 a.m. and I’m just now getting out of bed. Whether it’s Brazil or Portugal, these people know how to party. I’m drinking myself blind over here. Last night is a haze. All the bars melted into one long slog. I blame this port wine, a new addiction on the level […]

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