Rome to Civitavecchia

2 November, 2024

Addio, Roma!

Saturday gifted us perfect weather for our trip from Rome to Chivitavecchia. We put the finishing touches on our re-packing, arranging our purchases among the spare space we had (weight being a non-issue at this point) and managed to successfully close everything up!  Our Transfeero driver picked us up promptly at noon and loaded our luggage while I checked us out of the hotel. In a matter of minutes we were on our way. The drive was smooth, pleasant, and mostly along the coast. Traffic was light, so the trip only took about an hour.

As we arrived in Civitavecchia the signs of a typical coastal tourist town became evident. Souvenir shops and sidewalk cafes with large sandwich-board menus dotted the oceanfront streets. The website for our overnight accommodation gave rather specific, but slightly confusing, directions;

"When you see the sign"MONDADORI BOOKSTORE" you have arrived Get in the gallery, the main door is opposite the Bingo, and ring the intercom."

When we pulled up and the address was a shopping center I was a bit concerned and asked myself what, exactly, I had gotten us in to? As we walked up the sidewalk to the interior of the building rolling our luggage a gentleman was sweeping and picking up garbage. He asked if we were looking for La Casa sul Mare and introduced himself as Loris, the proprietor. He took the luggage from my wife and led us around the corner to a door across from the Bingo parlor. Through the door and up a flight of stairs we found ourselves in a hall of office suites; attorneys and real estate agents, among others. None of this was making me feel any better! We were taken around the corner to a lift, up a floor, where we exited the lift and stood before a rather large industrial-looking door.

What have I done?

Then Loris opened the door with a flourish and my jaw hit the floor. We were standing in a beautifully appointed breakfast room. Snacks and pastries (a pistachio tart, baked on an "as needed" basis by Loris' mother, was under a glass dome) water taps (both still and sparkling) a wine rack, a refrigerator filled with juices, soda, and beer, an espresso maker, tea kettle and all the supplies you could imagine. All of my misgivings evaporated,  and we hadn't even seen our room yet.

Loris unlocked our room and my relief only grew. A large bathroom with walk-in shower and thick, soft towels, a comfortable bed with crisp linen and magnificent pillows, blackout shades (we discovered the next morning how effective they were!) and a large flat-panel television in the corner. Enough space for our (excessive) luggage, and an air conditioner that would satisfy anyone from the South.

We changed from "relocation" mode to "sightseeing" mode and asked Ambra, Loris' amazing colleague, for recommendations of what to do for the afternoon. She directed us to several shops within the immediate area and we went exploring. A stop at the ATM and some window shopping was followed by a shady stop to enjoy a scoop of gelato. (An indulgence we failed to maximize in Rome.) After gelato we made our way back to the book store below our B&B and spent a while perusing. I was amused to find the Italian edition of the game "Exploding Kittens" on the shelf – having been one of the original supporters of the Kickstarter project. We wrapped up our afternoon by dropping packages back in our room and freshening up before dinner. Ambra had given the local pizza restaurant a strong recommendation, telling us that people often drove  to Civitavecchia from Rome to eat there. 

Pizzeria del Ghetto is just a block away from La Casa sul Mare and is one of the least assuming establishments you'll ever see. The quality of their pizza is inversely proportional to the opulence of their interior decoration. Varished wooden tables and ladder back chairs along with a reach-in beverage cooler are accented by a simple menu hung on the wall. The pizza options are limited to Margherita, Marinara, and Funghi. Pizza for one is 1/4 of a ~20 inch diameter pie, and it's as good as any pizza I've ever eaten.

The pizza is cut with large scissors, which I'm told by my Italian friends is traditional. At full tilt the restaurant is staffed by a team of four; one at the register, one cutting/serving, one making, and one baking. Some reviews express dissatisfaction with the lady at the register, stating she's rude. She doesn't speak enough English, and I don't speak enough Italian, for me to form an opinion! The lady cutting and serving translated a couple of words I was missing ("eighteen fifty" isn't on my vocabulary list) and I successfully paid our tab. We arrived back at the B&B to find everything quiet, despite the fairly early hour, and settled down for the evening.