The Wandering Two…

“Italy will never be a normal country. Because Italy is Italy. If we were a normal country, we wouldn’t have Rome.”    -Matteo Renzi, Prime Minister of Italy; 2014-2016

We arrive at the Eternal City, under California-blue skies and first blossoms of primavera. Our luggage arrives a day later, which seems like…well, an eternity. The blasé attitude of the airport baggage courier re-set our San Franciscan expectations for efficiency to a more Italian cadence. So, we are here!

We are comfortable in our bright, fascist-era apartment in the Borgo district – a once quiet hamlet that provided earthly services to the adjoining Vatican.

Each sunny morning, we promenade across San Pietro’s square surveying the faithful who converge upon the Holy See. Koreans, interestingly, seem to be the most represented travelers this season. Fortunately, given the surprisingly sparse crowds, we nip into the magnificent Basilica for a sacrosanct pause.

Rome is dotted with scores of dark stone and marble churches, fragrant with cool, calm interiors. Often these unassuming facades conceal astonishingly beautiful architecture and devotional art that provide instant meditative moments.

Our principal sanctuaries for contemplation are the sidewalk cafes and oak-mirrored expresso bars that define Roman street life. Seeking the perfect caffe latte, we join locals at arcane Sciascia, where rich chocolate is added to fresh roasted beans. Well-heeled citizens pop in 4-5 times a day for a caffeine boost, a hearty laugh, and perhaps a whiff of local gossip.

Another monument to idle pleasure is regal Canova on the expansive Piazza del Popolo which anchors one end of the capital’s tourist promenades. Here, price be damned, we nurse tall glasses of hot coffee, luxuriate in the warming sun, and recline amidst the international set for an hour’s serving of ascendancy. Our observatory for the human condition, filtered through shaded Mediterranean lenses.

Crossing strada in Rome, even at the cross-walk, is great sport. The contest breaks down to three options: 1) step into the street and cars/cycles, throttle forward, disregard your existence, 2) take two steps and the speeding vehicles swerve around you in gestures of punitive annoyance, 3) emulate local custom by inserting yourself in onrushing traffic with casual indifference, knowing that your will has triumphed.

Our default is to meekly wait for a lull in the action and madly run across the via, straining our usual composure!

Our choice of food favors the simple pleasures that are Italy. Fresh pastas (cacio e pepe), whole grilled sea bass, home-baked cakes, return us nightly to the humble trattorias (like Perdincibacco) in our quiet neighborhood.

When Guide Michelin gets around to rewarding soul, they will find abundant candidates for heavenly stars in our ‘hood.

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All photos captured on iPhone 7+

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“It is impossible to remain indifferent to Japanese culture. It is a different civilisation where all you have learnt must be forgotten. It is a great intellectual challenge and a gorgeous sensual experience.”                         – Alain Ducasse, Chef

Tokyo provides a mild, dry reception for our annual New Year’s visit: Work with Japanese partners and clients layered with relaxing days exploring the delights of “ancient Edo”- a 2-week enchantment within a dream.

Up before dawn each day for a bracing “old-folks jog” around the Imperial Palace grounds, we emerge from the remarkable Palace Hotel to inhale exquisite beauty, history, and civility. I can’t imagine a finer hospitality experience in the world. Luxury here is not squandered on ostentatious opulence, or gratuitous service. Rather, The Palace Hotel is a study in tasteful detail everywhere, unpretentious attention, and delicate comforts.

There is an unspoken distinction for the experience: Omotenashi – anticipating what’s required, and providing it, without expectation of reward. It is considered a privilege for the host.

From our Imperial base we tread districts proven to deliver – glass and chrome towers of Marunouchi, the financial district trimmed with restaurant arcades and toney shops offset with modern art and electric dew on trees; Omotesando, eye-candy of fashionistas watering at designer boutiques and chic cafes; Ginza, old-school department stores layered with big brands, food courts, vegtable and fish stalls, and serious shoppers.

Work is early morning taxis to charming back streets of Shibuya, where small shops and specialty stores blend among miniature homes and apartments.

Each assignment is a new, exciting challenge yielding grateful clients. Each evening we celebrate with our Japanese hosts in restaurants often hidden to the casual visitor: Mediterranean Cicada in Minato-ku, tempura at minimal Hakata Takao in Omotesando, Michelin-starred Chinese at Amber Palace, and fish-stews, onion soup, and salads at Grand Kitchen in our hotel. A steamy bowl of ramen, in the catacombs of nearby Tokyo Station, is always a secret option when we are weary.

We are invited by our wonderful translator, Maiko-san, to visit her at Minimal, a Bean-to-Bar chocolate business where she serves us heavenly hot chocolate made almost entirely with pure beans, curated from around the world. Someone will surely take notice of this emerging delight!

Another destination for us is both traditional Thai (in Akasaka) and Sports massage (in the sporting goods district!). An hour later, we are transported beyond jet-lag to other-worldly serenity.

Maybe our ‘hood is a dream, yet we find ourselves returning each year to the colors, the dignified simplicity, the peace amidst activity, the opportunity to contribute as honored guests.

We love our work. We love Tokyo. We are so fortunate to engage with earnest and appreciative people, at work, at repose, in this beautiful, respectful setting.

All images captured on iPhone 7+

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