Lucca a relatively small Tuscan town nestled into the heart of Italy.

The town (to the first time tourist) feels like a maze at first, and if your sense of direction isn’t strong you’ll easily find yourself right back where you started – just a few hours later. Or worse, at precisely the opposite end of town than you had intended.

With all that said, it’s hard to be hot, frustrated or mad when in Lucca. As long as no schedule binds you, you’ll always feel you’re on an adventure – every moment of every day.

Lucca has managed, through all the tourists, to remain at the most part, a typical Italian town. Therein lies the charm. People are as friendly as they can be to wandering English-speaking tourists. Smiling and kind, ready to give direction or share the path. The path. Not the road. When you’re out strolling and you hear a honk in the distance, move out of the way as a small car or scooter is about to zoom out of a side street or around a corner in a moment.

For more peaceful strolls, get yourself up on the wall of the city.

Lucca’s claim to fame is held within her city walls.

First constructed in the 16th century and rebuilt or restored throughout the years that passed. Today they appear in layers in some places, and hold the best walk of the city. A well kept promenade of shady trees and foot paths that span more than 4 km.

It is an unforgettable experience that you’ll long for many years after your first stroll. As you wander, you can see both sides of the city – inside the wall and outside. The outer city is little different than most of our North American suburbs so you’ll never be homesick – but your eyes will always return to the clay rooftops and bustling activity below.

Since we’re talking about looking down, be certain to visit in the Spring or Summer for breath-taking views of small and large gardens tucked into the homes of Lucca. Then look up to see two old holly oaks growing on top of the towers of the last of the Tuscan towers. Rumor has it that the seeds just blew in from the heavens and took root in the cracks of the cobblestones atop the towers. At any rate, they are majestic!

When glancing outward notice the mountains of the Garfagnana in the North. Then look south to the Monte Pisano in the South. Now contemplate this…Wouldn’t you rather stay in Lucca for a month, taking day trips to see all the nuances of Tuscany? Within 30 minutes you take a beach day, or wander around Florence (gorgeous!), the leaning tower at Pisa (Piazza dei Miracoli) is also less than ½ hour by car – 20 minutes by train.

Speaking of Pisa, this is the closest airport to Lucca. From which you can taxi to the train system (and come to Lucca of course) or grab a rental car for all your stay.

Buses (LAZZI) start from Piazzale Verdi (just inside the walls near the Western gate – the train is at the southern gate). As easily as you can take a train to Florence, Viareggio, Montecatini, Pistoia, or Garfagnana – you could just as easily an just as cheaply, take the bus.

Finally, don’t miss the markets! Similar to our flea markets in the USA and Canada, but with an Italian flair. Delicious foods, Italian designer clothing on the cheap, and lots of crazy nicknacks and gifts to bring home to your friends and family – items you can’t buy in North America, but will be used and treasured – for just a Euro or two! If you miss the market in Lucca, jump on the train and take in the market in ViaReggio or any other neighboring town. (Check with the locals to get all the scoop.)

Is Lucca perfect? I think so. The summers are not too hot, the winters are relatively mild. Year round the view is exciting, the aromas to be missed (pizza, gardens, gelato, wine).

Take me back to live out my days there!

Lucca, Italy is one of those towns in the Tuscan region that you probably never heard of, and no words can adequately describe. This is an extremely old city built behind 20′ (or so) walls that make a lovely walking tour or morning bicycle ride. The top of the wall hosts trees to provide ample shade on the hottest of days, a foot path, sidewalks, stairs down into the city (or out of) and benches along the way if you get tired.

How we ended up there was nothing short of a blessing! We really had no idea what we were in for when we booked the cheapest room in the cheapest hostel there.

Remember now, that we are two females – a mother and daughter – on our own in a country whose language neither one of us have heard before…

And yet as we stayed there, as we walked around the city streets at night, as we slept in our room in the big, nearly empty school dorm, we did not once worry about our safety. And trust me, I was cautious and ready for trouble, having come from years of life in Toronto where anything can happen to unsuspecting females.

We fell in love with Lucca. So much so, in fact, that we often talk today about returning for a month. So much so, that Veronica dreams of moving there one day. So much so, that even though we were less than an hour’s travel away from such tourist traps as the leaning tower of Pisa, etc. – we didn’t want to leave the magic we found in little Lucca.

Even when it was time to return to Rome to catch our flight home, we dragged our feet and changed our train travel to the very last moment…

Excited to see all the souvenirs in the Casablanca and surroundings market? Here are a few photos of what you can expect to see on the way and buy once you get there! Be sure to check out the other post on Casablanca (and the warning about women in Agadir, Morocco) before you fly over or get off the cruise ship though!

Our ship was scheduled to port in Casablanca and I have to say I was more than a little excited to be visiting this culture-rich city. I had told Veronica all about it before we left for our trip and even considered renting the old Bogart movie.

A week before we were scheduled to arrive political bombers had attacked the Embassy region of Casablanca so our cruise line decided it was in everyone’s best interest to cancel the port destination. You’d think that since this was just an attack on the Embassies that the tourist areas we were headed to would be safe, but it was the one year anniversary of another bombing attack that took place in Casablanca in 2006 – so Celebrity Cruises thought it was in everyone’s best interest to cancel.

Since we were on such a wild and wonderful adventure I didn’t get upset. I heard many other people on the ship bitching though.

Casablanca is a strange and wonderful place that I hope to introduce my daughter to at a later date.

The markets (souks) are rich with culture and gorgeous fabrics and the buskers (sellers, performers) are diverse. Be careful however with your digital camera – if they catch you taking a photograph of them they’ll work hard to get your money for the priviledge!

Sharing this first, because it was Veronica’s least favorite place to visit…

First of all we were very excited to be going to Agadir. It was a known ‘international’ city, the shopping deals were said to be fabulous, and we thought we could get a taste of Moroccan life while buying some souvenirs for our friends and family.

However we also knew that we had to be conservative in dress and mannerisms as we were two women travelling alone. Although the day was over 100 degrees F we dressed covering ourselves from neck to elbows, waist to ankle. We didn’t even wear sandals or open toed shoes. We even covered our eyes with large and dark sunglasses.

But the leering came none-the-less.

Veronica, an intuitive 13 year old, knew precisely the disgusting thoughts those men were having – and they backed up her fears by offering to pay me – on more than one occassion – a few hundreds camels to possess her.

Oh it gets worse!

The Leering of Men in Agadir

One shop owner actually cornered her in his store, putting himself between mother and daughter for just a moment. Disgusted and frustrated by the men in this city, we headed down to the boardwalk/beach area (having heard that you could go on a camel ride for a fee). Once there though, we decided not to interact, but to watch the culture walk by us in a cafe.

I might add at this point that this may not happen to every one, every woman, every young girl who visits Agadir. And, in part, I can’t blame these men for their behaviour – fully.

You see Veronica is a stunning young woman at 13, with natural streaks of blonde, red, ash and chocolate brown throughout her hair and her eyes are ones that change (given her mood and clothing color) from blue to green to smoking gray. Given that most of the women in their culture are brown hair, brown eyes – I must say that we couldn’t help but stand out in the landscape of the city.

Back to the cafe…

Although we were well taken care of, I couldn’t help but notice that the waiter lingered longer (well after his tip) and then a few minutes later the kitchen staff came out – one by one – to stand and gawk awhile at our table. They, thankfully, were respectful and kept their distance. Next came the bartender. Then the manager.

Getting back to the ship, where we were just normal people once again, was a relief!

Here is one last photo from the outskirts of Agadir…

In May of 2007 I took my daughter for a trip to Europe.

We actually started our journey from home (in rural Ontario) at 3 am, headed down to Syracuse, NY airport (the fares were less than 1/2 the cost than flying out of Toronto or Ottawa and only added 2 hours of driving to our trip).

From Syracuse we flew to San Juan, Puerto Rico where we spent 1 and a half days – shopping, sleeping and a little swimming in the hotel pool.

The hotel wasn’t the most beautiful or the most elaborate – but the staff was friendly, the rooms were clean, and the service (including the continental breakfast) were awesome for the price we paid! Comfort Inn, San Juan – I promised to write them a great review on Priceline, but by the time we arrived back at home (1 month later) the option to review the hotel was gone from my user account. I would have given them a 4.5 out of 5.

From San Juan we hopped on a Celebrity Cruise ship and the next 14 days deserve a blow-by-blow description so I’ll save that for later. Our ports of call were (i) St. John’s Antigua, (ii) Ibiza, Spain, (iii) Casablanca, (iv) Morocco, (v) Barcelona, Spain, (vi) Villefrance, France, (vii) Rome and I forget where else right now – but I’ll work it out as I upload photos and stories.

When the cruise ended we took off from Civitivechia Italy to Rome – then by train to Lucca (a small Tuscan town).

Five days later we began our long flight home to Syracuse.

And we’ve been dying to get back to Italy ever since!