What I REALLY Thought About QM2 TransAtlantic Crossing

by midgeguerrera, posted in Travel Comments

Those of you who had been following my tales comparing my Nonna’s 1920 transatlantic crossing and mine, know that on May 30, 2025 we disembarked in Southhampton, England UK. Nobody laugh but until we took the QM2 across the Atlantic I didn’t know the word disembarkation existed. Then a bus, a plane and a car service later we were home in Pontelandolfo, Italy.

Some of you have messaged me and asked – What did you really think about the crossing? Was it organized to a type A Jersey Girl’s level of expectation? What did you learn? Would you do it again?

I thought the crossing was fabulous. Jack and I don’t put on worry hats. We absolutely ignored all those woosies telling us to wear magic anti nausea bracelets and take dramamine . Yes, one felt the roll of the ocean. That roll would rock me to sleep at night. It is chilly on the Atlantic but, frankly, we rarely went outside. We found two bars we loved – great martinis, fabulous views of the sea, comfortable seats and interesting other travelers. With my laptop in toe, I would write in the bars or simply stare at the sea. Being friendly folks, we often shared a seating area with other people and had funfilled and engaging conversations. Most of the passengers we met were from Great Britain, Ireland and Italy. (All asked us the same question – who voted for that man to be president? I shrugged and said “boh.”)

We had a room – or do I call it a cabin – that was quite large, had a sitting area, ensuite bathroom with a large shower and an obstructed view terrace. We could sit outside and see the sea through the glass sides of a lifeboat. Not being athletic, I didn’t think that if the need arose I could sprint and leap into the lifeboat. The obstructed view cost less and since we were rarely there was inconsequential.

Room Service Breakfast was off the menu and delish.

Every day a new slick printed trifold was placed on our newly made bed. It contained the schedule for the next day. the “Daily Programme” had nautical information, What to Wear advice for the day – Smart Attire please – and a complete list of activities. Frankly, we never went to see a show – back to the bar after our late night dinner. Never went to the interesting lectures. Never went to the dance and exercise classes. Never went to the painting and arts based classes. Never went into the empty casino. Never went into the all night long disco. Never went – well you get my drift. Passengers who were looking to use the voyage as a “cruise vacation” were not disappointed. I used the seven days as a writer’s retreat and finished a short story and three blogs. Jack and I also enjoyed exploring the nooks and crannies of the ship.

During the day there were lots of seats in the casino.

Based on how much one pays for a cabin, a restaurant is assigned. We were assigned to the Britannia Club and were never disappointed. The menu changed daily, was interesting, delicious and beautifully presented. Famished when we embarked (look I used the fancy word again) we foolishly went to the Kings Court Buffet. Crowds, grabbing a table, I thought I was in a college cafeteria. It was lovely to look at but we are foodie snobs so the buffet never saw us again. For up charges there were alternative dining options. We toyed with trying them but the food in the Britannia Club was so good, I didn’t see the need to.

Room Service was included in the base price. Every morning we got up when we felt like it, didn’t rush to a restaurant and had a scrumptious breakfast delivered. Portions were small – think tapas – and interesting takes on eggs.

We did go to the famous daily Afternoon Tea. Obviously it was a tasty treat for all. Sadly, waiters came around with carafes of tea, trays of different sandwiches, savories and pastries. I thought we were in a dim sum restaurant. I miss the tower and my own pot of tea.

Knowing we were not the soft drink kind of folks, we opted to pay $1008 for unlimited spirits, specialty beverages and more. I know, $72 a day each sounds like a ridiculous price until I started asking obnoxious questions. How much is a martini made with Hendricks? What do you charge for a cappuccino, sparkling mineral water, etc. Bar prices are the same as a New York City or London Hotel Bar. Yes, they charged for mineral water. If a glass of wine is $14 and Jack has two at lunch and three at dinner, we would spend $70. Now, add on the four bottles of mineral water, three cappuccini and toss in an espresso or two and he made the daily price point. Without worry and the tips are included. Frankly, we did spend a lot of time in the various bars and the coffee house. When we flashed our card with the pre-pay stamp we were treated incredibly well. Another incentive to hang out in the bars was the music. Jazz, harpist, light rock, Irish Shanties – music matched the tone of the bar. Sigh, I do miss that.

Bar Table With a View Worth Drinking For.

Was the adventure organized to my obnoxious management standards? Hmm. Yes and no. I would have appreciated some of the information we received on the ship in advance. When we arrived at our cabin we found information about where to eat, how to turn on internet, where do I get my key etc. I would have appreciated the first day schedule in advance. At the Brooklyn Pier, our luggage was whisked out of the car and directly to our cabin. I thought how spot on! What wasn’t spot on was the long cue to show one’s passport and tickets. No one explained in advance that there would be an incredible amount of walking to board the vessel. Jack has a squirrely back and we order an airport wheelchair for him. If I had been forewarned, I would have ordered a wheelchair at the pier . Disembarking was the same forced long march out.

The WIFI was another annoying issue. One must pay the evil StarLink for the service. I paid, and couldn’t get it to work. Obviously, hordes of other folks couldn’t get it to work and on day one we all cued up at the ConneXions Desk. There should have been more people working. After two days of writing, I realized I couldn’t upload anything. Now even more annoyed, I went to the purser’s station and stood in another long line to discover that for a few pounds a day more the wifi would work perfectly. I can’t remember what the uncharge was but hey…

The disembarking including our luggage being whisked out to the transportation center. We found our bags and then lugged them to a bus. Cunard for $90 a person will transport folks to Heathrow. I will never take the bus again. My short legs and big butt make climbing into a high bus and up stairs to the seats a nightmare. Lugging my computer bag down the narrow aisle wasn’t pleasant either. Next time, I would price out a car service to the airport. We spied small groups getting into bigger taxi style vehicles. The driver was helpful at the airport and made sure our luggage made it to the curb.

What did I learn? I learned that the Queen Mary 2, for some passengers, is a commuter ferry. Seriously, a lot of the people I met used the QM2 to get from one content to the other for work. The library on the ship has work stations with ocean views and unless I got there early enough, they were all taken with folks typing away. Someone said to me, they get a lot of work done on the crossing and arrive refreshed and ready to go.

I learned, not quite as bad as an airport, but you still have to wait in uncomfortable lines to get on and get off – excuse me embark and disembark. At least all of the staff was “Disney” smiling and happy.

People are wonderful and interesting. Traveling slowly across the sea provides an opportunity to really chat and get to know people’s stories. The Irish American sisters who visit Ireland annually and regaled us with village tales. They were from a county that butts the county that Jack’s clan is from. The Italian American couple who spend six months a year in Puglia were charming and fun to sit and laugh with in two languages. The Irish woman and her young son were a joy to play with. The world travelers who gave us hints for getting the most out of the QM2. And so many more.

I also learned that being in a cocoon of comfort was a catalyst for my creativity. Since I had been blogging about my Nonna’s journey, I wrote a non-fiction short story about my Aunt Cat. Hmm, a writer’s retreat on a cruise ship? What an idea waiting for someone to organize.

Would I do it again? If the total price point was right, I would do it again. When flights out of Newark, NJ were being cancelled, I started trying to get a flight out of Philadelphia or JFK. The price for premium economy or business class on short notice was the cost of my first car. Then, I get this promotional email from Cunard – last minute deals on cruises. The base fare for a great room with an obstructed view was $859 a person. If we didn’t like bar life or needed wifi, we could have gotten away with that low price. I added on Cunard Care – health insurance and evacuation for 74.27 each. The bus to Heathrow was $90. Then there were taxes. The cost for two people was $2,046.54.

Being math deficient, I had a team of people help me reach the conclusion that adding the spirits package, $17 a day tips, wifi and cheap flight to Naples to the base price the total cost of our voyage for two from Ewing to Pontelandolfo cost us less than one first class last minute ticket on an airplane.

Soooooo, would we do it again? Does Cunard offer discounts to commuters? We are investigating what the seas are like in November and you might find me staring out that QM2 bar window again.

Ci Vediamo prossima volta,

Midge Guerrera

PS. There is still time to come and Cook in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo.

SS Madonna VS QM2

by midgeguerrera, posted in Travel Comments

This journey has really been revealing. Actually, no mysteries about the Atlantic Crossing were unveiled- except I did see a whale and it seems that only American Men deem to wear baseball caps to the dining room. The reveal, was personal, very personal. It helped me appreciate my grandmother even more. The revelations started when I discovered SS Madonna, the ship Maria Rosaria Solla, Caterina Guerrera, Nicola Santo Pietro and Salvatore Guerrera took across the sea.

Even though both were built in Europe, SS Madonna by Swan, Hunter and Wigham Richardson Ltd on The Tyne in Northern England and the Queen Mary 2 by STX Europe in Saint Nazaire, Brittany, they had nothing in common. SS Madonna was built specifically to carry cargo and 1,650 emigrants in steerage between Liverpool and New York. (I’m thinking the emigrants were considered cargo too.) There were accommodations for 54 first class passengers. The QM2 carries 2,695 passengers in luxury.

SS Madonna left Napoli on December 3, 1920. A scant 17 days later it arrived at Ellis Island. The Queen Mary 2 powered out of Brooklyn, New York on the evening of May 23, 2025 and will dock in South Hampton seven days later. What a difference one-hundred years of design innovation can do.

Queen Mary 2 – Stunning ship.

The class system on the Madonna was very clear. Fifty four people crossed the Atlantic in cabins, with access to the outside deck and real meals. The hordes of emigrants down below were given bread. Aunt Cat said, they had carried cheese with them and would have starved without it. As I researched this, I couldn’t help but think of the slave ships also built in Europe to carry human cargo. Cripes, the things humans do for profit.

We will never starve on the QM2. Actually, every meal except the over crowed first night buffet has been exceptional. We were assigned – based on our ticket class – the Britannia Dining Room. Others, with more expensive tickets go to the Queens Grill or Princess Grill. That said, we all meet and mingle in lounges, bars and entertainment venues. Frankly, we haven’t had one bad day of eating. Please do not tell anyone, but we never get up in time for breakfast and are addicted to room service. Sigh, does that make me a princepessa? I hope so. My room service eggs scrambled with salmon are light fluffy and downright heavenly. I order them daily.

Find Solla and Guerrera. For a challenge find others from Pontelandolfo.

Studying the SS Madonna’s manifest, I was smacked again with the constant disparaging of Southern Italians. Southern Italians are farmers, stupid, lack initiative – all stereotypic BS. The Northern Italy versus Southern Italy conflicts were intensified during the unification of Italy. Pontelandolfese remember the summer of terror. On August 14, 1861 rape, pillage, murders and fires consumed Pontelandolfo – all in the name of unification. Nothing like genocide to get one to agree to a concept. It all still angers me.

Therefore, I was horrified to see the classifications on the List or Manifest of Alien Passengers for the United States. There was a category for nationality and one for race. My family was listed as Italy for nationality and – gag me now before I scream – SoItalian for race. What race is SoItalian? The green people? My grandmother had blue eyes – the blue eyed people?? As opposed to NoItalian for race – the fancy people? Guess what, on this manifest I didn’t find anyone whose race was NoItalian. Maybe if you were from the north you could afford one of the 54 first class tickets.

Rosaria Solla’s occupation is listed as peasant. Peasant is better than bonbon eater. Other trades I found were tailor, laborer, housewife.

Accompanied by a 9, 7 and 16 year old, my nonna was rejoining her husband, my grandfather Francesco Guerrera. It was a treacherous experience. The December sea pounds all ships. I can imagine the wild ride my family had on the SS Madonna. The contemporary design of the QM2 keeps it stable.

We easily adjust the thermostat in our cabin. My grandmother, freezing was saved by the generosity of strangers sharing their coats.

The more I researched the ship, the prouder I was of my grandparents. Both went on harrowing adventures, holding their love strong until they could be reconnected.

Jack and I are rejoining our Italian family of Pontelandolfese. I’m proud of us for discovering this transportation solution to the current chaos of air travel. Will we cross the Atlantic this way again? We shall see. I know my nonna felt that once was enough.

Ci Vediamo a presto

Midge

PS – come see us in September – Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo.

What to Pack to Cross Ocean?

by midgeguerrera, posted in Travel Comments

Maria Rosaria Solla do not pack that heavy dark wool skirt. Do you want people to think you are a contadina?

I am a contadina and the skirt is warm.

Thank you for the skirt. I am taking it right now and you are packing the colorful dress. Now, on the ship you will look like a proper lady.

BAD ADVICE!

Nonna brought this photo with her. I wonder if that is the “friend” who took her warm and functional clothes?

As we read Cunard’s Queen Mary 2 dress code, I panicked. “What to Wear: Smart Attire.” I’ve got two advanced degrees but my clothes ain’t necessarily smart. Reading more, I knew I wasn’t going to look like a proper lady going to the ball. They have black tie fancy dress dinners and parties on board! All my fancy duds and summer clothes are in Pontelandolfo. In New Jersey, Bluefish style winter artsy fartsy is my fashion statement. I ran out and bought a $26 black dress at Marshalls, packed my silky scarves, bijoux and bling jewelry and hoped for the best.

Maria Rosaria hoped for the best too. Sadly, as I was told by her and Aunt Cat, hope was not enough. Crossing the Atlantic Ocean in steerage was freaking cold. According to Aunt Cat:

On the ship it was so cold mamma couldn’t stop shaking.  She didn’t have anything heavy to wear. I hate that lady who took her warm clothes.

Mamma was shivering and had a fever. She just stayed in the bed – we were all way down in the bottom of the ship – hundreds of us.  My brother Nick, Sal and me – mamma was so sick – we were kids. We didn’t know what to do. An old man felt sorry for mamma and took care of her.  He got coats from the other men and piled them on her. Somehow she lived.

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Warm cape was the first thing she made in New Jersey.

My lack of stylish summer clothing was not a problem. The Atlantic Ocean breezes are cold. My linen long sleeved ensembles and scarves were just right. And, frankly, we only went outside on deck for brief walks. The interior of the Queen Mary 2 is not only well appointed but temperature controlled.

The fancy dress parties were not even on the radar for my grandmother. Steerage tickets didn’t entitle voyagers to much.

Saturday night was Cunard’s Red and Gold black tie event. I felt perfectly fine in black palazzos, black silk top and huge hand painted silk wrap. Bejeweled handmade creations from Lambertville put the icing on my dress cake. As we sat in one of the upscale bars listening to a harpist, Jack said, “ Why didn’t you tell me it would be black tie. I didn’t even pack a tie.” Sigh…

Ci vediamo.

Midge

PS: check out Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo. Still spots left for September.

Across the Atlantic

by midgeguerrera, posted in Finding My Family - Genealogy, Travel Comments

Jack and I are blessed to be able to buzz back and forth between our homes in New Jersey and Pontelandolfo. Travel is never easy. Does anyone love the lines and commedia of any airport? The waiting for late flights. The agony of cancelled flights. It all is horrific. We were packed and ready to head back home to Italy when Newark Airport became a shitshow. Outages in the tower causing traffic controllers to practically faint at the controls. Runway mishaps and construction problems. What?

Then the text from United Airlines came. If we chose to cancel our flight, even though we had nonrefundable tickets, they would be happy to give us our money back. Hmmm. What are they telling us? Next, I heard the CEO say that to keep their passengers safe they were canceling flights. Cripes. I cancelled. (Still waiting for the refund.)

Searching for last minute direct flights through Philadelphia or New York JFK was impossible. Then the gift from the goddesses appeared in my inbox. Cunard’s Queen Mary 2 was having a last minute sale on empty cabins. I looked at Jack and bought two tickets. (What, you thought I’d leave home home alone?) The base price was considerably less than premium economy on any airline.

The fare was $859 each. Add on transportation to Heathrow Airport from South Hampton, Cunard Care Health Insurance, taxes and port fees and the total for two people was $2046.54. That includes food but not adult beverages, Wi-Fi, or the tips. I am not sure what the final bill will be but when I do, you will be the second to know.

One of my creative friends suggested that I was echoing my families immigration experience – in reverse. Is that why I saw the Cunard ad? A message from someone who came before me? Write about the parallels she said. Gulp. Let that challenge begin.

Like my grandma, passport in hand, heading to Napoli to grab a ship, we headed to the Brooklyn Piers.

Our great driver, Al, from Spectrum Limo got us to Brooklyn in record time. It was much easier than the ride to JFK Airport. With three kids in tow, luggage, food and a husband who was already in New Jersey, my grandmother struggled to get to the dock in Naples. Someone from Pontelandolfo got them there. Then she was on her own.

At the Brooklyn Pier, porters grabbed our luggage from the car and free of encumbrances we walked to the terminal. WHAM, then I got the chills. Long lines snaked trough the terminal. As bad as or worse than any airport at Thanksgiving. As we crammed into the que, Aunt Cat’s story of Ellis Island took over my consciousness.

Struggling with bundles, Rosaria and her three children joined the Ellis Island mayhem. Crammed to appear upright between her mom and older brother, polio crippled Catherine was marched through the madness. Children were crying, different accents were heard and the closer they got to the people in charge the more fear built up in Catherine.

Engulfed by a cacophony of accents – mostly British Empire – I could see and feel Aunt Cat. We were squished and prodded through to passport and ticket control. They took our pictures. I asked why. Who is monitoring the pictures? If we don’t look “right” will they refuse to let us disembark or back into the USA? Was Aunt Cat forcing the words out of my mouth. Or was I just a tired Jersey girl?

Little Catherine was right to be afraid. She was pulled from the line, taken from her now crying mother, and placed in quarantine. Her experience disembarking the ship had a lifelong impact.

Daily, my grandmother and grandfather came to check on her. Their lack of the English language and peasant status made the ordeal sad, frustrating and scaring. Obviously, Catherine was ultimately released and they began a life in New Jersey.

Domani o dopo domani I will continue the reverse journey story. The Star Link WiFi sucks. You may or may not get this blog post. Let me know. Please add it to social media for me. The WiFi on the ship – that I spent $240 on – doesn’t let me access social media. Hugs to all of you and all of your journeys.

Ci vediamo

Midge

Can it Really Be 30 Years?

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Finding My Family - Genealogy

FaceBook sometimes feels like just another chore and then some photo or post will smack me in the face and send my memory cells careening around my brain. On April 15, 2025, my testa dura got smacked hard. Into my otherwise boring feed popped a picture of a handsome young man at his thirtieth birthday celebration. I started to sob. Not because, I wanted to be thirty and at that party – though that thought did enter my mind – but because I first met the now thirty year old Valerio Mancini in 1995. The year that changed our lives.

The adorable Valerio Mancini held by his beautiful mom, Carmela Fusco. 1995

1995 –  Jack and I accompanied my Aunt Catherine back the village she was born in, Pontelandolfo, Italy. That year, I had started a family tree and the three of us were on a quest to find more information.

Just to put 1995 in perspective, this is before we had a cell phone with a magic app that did instant translation. We had to get by on Jersey Girl balls and a big smile. Aunt Cat had had polio In Italy and at 80 something smiled like a wee elf sporting a big brace. Jack wheeled her to the municipal building and stopped. There were two flights of stairs to the anagrafe office. No worry, Aunt Cat beamed that magical smile at two local policemen who carried her up two flights of stairs in the chair. (This is what the Italian heart is all about.)

 The woman responsible for vital records spent about three hours with us going through all these old books dating back to the 1860s. Aunt Cat started speaking in an arcane Italian dialect and everybody understood her. Her face lit up. It was like she had just found heaven.  This was a language that was entrenched in her soul. A language that she never spoke at home and suddenly here she is and it’s possible again. We find all kinds of information. Like my Great Grandfather, Salvatore Guerrera, was married to Caterina Guerrera. Italian women keep their own names so my imagination went wild. Did he marry his cousin/sister – euuuch? Is that why I am just a little pazzo? Guerrera, we discovered, is a super common name. I licked my pencil point and kept on writing. We thanked everyone and found our way down the stairs and back to our car.

Now, we have about 6 handwritten pages of family tree and I haven’t the foggiest idea what we’re going to do with it. While staring at each other and standing in the almost empty Piazza Roma another vigile comes up to us. Having lived in Waterbury, Connecticut, He speaks English. Side Note – After World War Two, the lack of jobs and demolished towns were a catalyst for a mass exodus. There are more Pontelandolfese  in Connecticut today than there are in Pontelandolfo. 

Pietro Perugini, sporting his vigile uniform, walked right up to us. Asking if he could see the family tree, he pulled the notes from my hand, stared at them, got into the town police car and left.
 He left with all my notes. He just freaking left.  Three hours’ worth of notes and he gets in his car and he leaves.  What the f*&$?  I threw the biggest hissy fit imaginable.  All that work.  All that time going through the dusty books.  Had I unearthed a horrible town secret?  

The tantrum chock full of English curses started drawing a crowd.  Aunt Cat smacks me with her cane.  I’m thinking, OK OK, maybe like we’re related to really bad people and they don’t want us to know that we’re part of the baddest of bad evil people. Or maybe we’re royalty. That must be it – and and and and and they don’t want us to know because we really own this freaking Piazza.

I swear we waited for 3 ½ or 4 hours. but Jack said it was probably maybe 15 minutes. I don’t know. All that pacing was making me insane.  Officer Perugini finally came back and said, “I think I found your relatives follow me.”

 We get Anne Catherine back in the car and we followed to row houses on a side hilly street.  I found out later that after a devastating earthquake that eradicated homes dating back to the 1600s, this public housing was built.  Since the houses were crammed next to each other, it was tongue in cheek branded as Shanghai.  The vigile and I knocked on a door. A little old lady tentatively opens the door and with a fierce look stares at us. I’m holding the family tree and pointing I say here I am and there you are.  The policeman says it in Italian. Actually, I have no idea what he’s saying but I’m guessing it’s ‘here she is and there you are.’ Bamm, the door was slammed in our faces.

Jack had parked and Aunt Catherine is, with great difficulty, dragging her leg, holding on to Jack and walking toward this house.  I knock on the door again. Again, I’m greeted by a scowling woman, but also a smiling younger woman holding a baby saying “come on in for coffee.” Obviously mother and daughter don’t agree about what to do with these strange Americans. The old woman is essentially saying we know no one in America and we don’t want to. The young woman with an adventuresome gleam in her eye is curious. They see and hear Catherine say in her little voice from the road “are you my cousin?”

The three of us were in the doorway. Aunt Cat asked again, “tu e mia cugina?”   

The old woman replied, Jesu e Maria. Ora e sempre, Caterina Guerrera had recalled the ancient greeting. Both women started to cry and hugged. 

Giuseppina Guerrera and Caterina Guerrera meet.

Suddenly, Giuseppina Guerrera, who we discovered was indeed Aunt Cat’s first cousin, starts to ask her 20 questions. It was better than any of those quiz shows. The million dollar question was – Libero Capporosso. Conosci  libero caparoso? I’m thinking who the hell is Libero Capparoso? A light went off, the audience cheered as Anne Catherine said – “bookie.”   Libero means book in Italian.  He had left the village and come to New Jersey and stayed with our family. Bookie was the magic answer that opened the door to our hearts and love for Pontelandolfo.

That day, we also found another family and first cousin, Carmine Manna. Both families have embraced us. Because of them we became part of the greater Pontelandolfo family.

Thank you Valerio for posting your birthday bash on Facebook. Thank you for being part of our extended family. Thank you for reminding me how blessed we are to have found our roots in Pontelandolfo. That you for being that wee baby boy who smiled and welcomed us home.

Ci Vediamo

Midge

Will I See You in Pontelandolfo?

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo

Sigh, I can see the steam floating up from my perfect cappuccino at Cafe Style. My wallet is thrilled that we can go to Bar Elimar for a scrumptious homemade lunch and spend a scant €15 for two people. Jack’s nose is yearning to smell the bouquet of the featured wines at Ponte Simone. We both have saved up our pennies for a night out at Tãwa, the glorious sushi restaurant, in Piazza Roma.

Do I sound homesick? I am, I am! Soon we will be back home in Pontelandolfo and I can’t wait.

Will we see you there? In 2025 we have two incredible opportunities for you to become a part of our village. Cook in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo – May 17th to the 24th or September 6th to the 13th! This yummy program has been bringing smiles to the faces of culinary adventurers since 2016. (Not bragging, but last year we got a tourism award.) Check out the videos on the website – lots of food, laughter, and community. Then register and join the fans.

Follow your Creative Muse to Pontelandolfo

Our newest adventure is literally literature. Toss your laptop in a bag and participate in our 2025 Writers’ Refuge in the Sannio Hills. This Writer’s Retreat runs from June 21 to June 28th. Authors can soak up the atmosphere and work on their craft with Amy Scott of Scott Editorial.

All of the adventures start with a bar crawl. ‘Midge, Midge,” you are thinking, “a bar crawl is soooo sophomoric.” Nah! It is anything but sophomoric. What an incredible way to explore different parts of the village, meet locals and gain an understanding of village life.

Our very first group of writers joined the village in 2024. Playwrights organized by the New Jersey non profit – Write Where You Are. They wrote. They flourished. They conquered.

Will I see you in Pontelandolfo? Questions?

Contact Me

Ci vediamo!

Midge

Ten Things Tourists Need to Know

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Nonna's Trips & Events, Practical Matters - Living Abroad, Travel Comments

In the spring, summer and fall of 2024 our house in the hills was rocking with out of towners. For ten years, we asked, cajoled, begged and pleaded family and friends to please come and visit us in Pontelandolfo. Hardly anyone did. As years passed, no one did. This past year everyone did. We were so booked that we had a paper calendar on the kitchen wall with days blocked off and names scribbled in, scribbled out and new ones scribbled in. I felt like our door was not just revolving but always open.

Shut the door you’re letting the flies in. Shut the door you’re letting the cold in.

That said, we were happy to have a full house. We saw people we hadn’t seen in years. Catching up is always fun. I hope this summer we get just as many guests.

What an enormous bugia! Most days I was happy to have a full house. Other days, I took my computer and hid in a bar.

Come on Midge, every experience no matter how frustrating is an opportunity to learn. I learned that there is a lot to learn. Having all these folks passing through and me shaking my head like an insane Auntie M, I realized that there were things that guests, retreat participants, culinary tourists and everyone who visits us needed to know.

One of Jack’s cousins suggested I was doing my readers a disservice by not sharing my incredible knowledge of random and useless facts about traveling. She encouraged me to come up with a list of Ten Things Tourists and Guests coming to Pontelandolfo need to know. This suggestion was given after I looked at her with a raised eyebrow and said, you don’t have a debit card? How could you come to Europe and not have a debit card? Gulp, I need to work on may people skills.

Deciding to take the task seriously, and with her input, I riffed on things I noticed people having a problem with. Ta, da – Here is my arbitrary and lightly sarcastic list of Ten Things Tourists Need to Know:

  1. No one here wants your American dollars. Even the local banks don’t want to exchange your dollars for euros. Unless you are washing your cash, why would you bring a sack of dollars? Bring a sack of euros. Stuff them in your bra. That’s what I do. When in Italy use euros. The 1950s ugly American idea that the entire world craves “American Money” is over. About 25 years ago, my father joined us on an excursion to Pontelandolfo. He knew that the kids in our extended family were in college so he brought a stack of $50 bills to give as gifts. Every single kid said thank you, looked at the bill, looked at me and raised an eyebrow. Unless you were in a big city there was no way to change the dollars.

2. Make sure you have a working debit card. With a debit card you can go to any automatic teller machine and get the best exchange rates on the currency of the country you are visiting. I take that back. Only go to bank automatic teller machines not the ones named after someone’s pet cat. When you get a debit card or if you have one but haven’t used it out of the country, call your bank and make sure it works abroad. I had a panicked cousin who had just gotten a debit card and discovered it would’t work anywhere but at her bank. An irate call to the bank unearthed that the card didn’t work because it wasn’t a debit/credit card. She ended up borrowing euros.

3. Beware of the seemingly friendly offer to charge you for your purchase on line, in a store and/or at an automatic teller machine in US dollars. You will be screwed on the exchange rate. Make sure you click euros. Your bank will do the exchange at a better rate.

4. Use your credit card not your debit card to buy stuff. Credit cards in a store or restaurant provide a more secure way to shop. Credit card companies will usually refund, cancel and harness the creeps who steal your info. This advice does not come from me. I can barely add. It comes from my banker and numerous articles I’ve read from credible sources. And, some cretin did steal my credit card number and used the card/number to buy breakfast everyday at the same bar in Campobasso. Yes, they were caught and yes, my bank handled everything.

5. Please don’t be a creepy traveler (especially in Pontelandolfo where I know everyone) and use a credit card in a small local caffe or shop for a cup of coffee and a biscotti. My personal guideline is if it is less than €25 I pay in cash.

6. Double check all the adapters for your electronic devices. Not every country abroad has the same plug configuration. “What, I used this in Germany, why the @$#% doesn’t it work in Italy.” Because you are in Italy not Germany. Depending on where you are, it might be difficult to get the correct adapter.

7. Make sure your bags make it directly to your final destination. Airline and airport blues make the beginning of your trip a nightmare. Guests have told me that they missed flights to Naples because they had to get their checked bags in another European country and go through control again before boarding their flight to Naples. I then ask the same question. Were you flying on two different airlines? Don’t. For example, we would fly Lufthansa from Newark, New Jersey to Naples, Italy. We changed planes in Frankfurt. Our bags came all the way through to Naples. If we had flown airline A from the USA to the EU and then a different airline to our final destination, the odds are we would have had to get our bags and schlepp them to the second airline. Double check when booking your flight. I always ask, ”the bags go all the way through, correct.” Yes, I book flights on line but being anal, I also call the airlines.

8. Pack less not more. Jack just asked, how do you know what you need until you get there. Jack also said, if you forget something you can buy it. Sigh. I tend to overpack or rather over pile stuff on the bed and then toss out half. Packing cubes are incredible. I’ve got both compression and regular cubes. Sorting your clothes can be particularly useful if you are moving from city to city. I sort, because my type A personality likes clothes organized by type. Ladies, gulp, maybe it is because I am in my third act, but I discovered that sanitary napkins are a life saver on many counts. I am able to wear a pair of trousers more days using sanitary napkins. (Shhhh, that is a secret.)

9. Make sure you have a working phone. Don’t cheap out and think you can just keep your phone in airplane mode and/or just use wi-fi. We have had folks stranded at the train station with no way to contact us. When you are in a Wi-Fi zone it is easy to use free services – like Apple to Apple texting and FaceTime. Many Italians, us included, use WhatsApp. WhatsApp is even used by doctors and businesses here. For clarity of sound, I’ve discovered that Facebook messenger is incredible for calling pals in the USA. Again, don’t only rely on Wi-Fi as your only means of communication. Pay the fee to have international access or buy a SIM card wherever you are. A digital warrior who lives here has another hack. She bought a rechargeable portable hotspot. Hence, WiFi everywhere she goes.

10. This is a biggy. Make sure your passport is up to date and doesn’t expire within a three month window of your trip. I have no idea why that rule exists. Could someone explain it to all of us? It seems to me, something expires when it expires but who am I to have an opinion. A young relative of mine slated to visit us last year, discovered his passport would be in the unusable two month window. He had to fly to another state to go to an in-person passport center and get his new passport in one day. Yikes! Though, thinking about it, not being able to get home might start a new adventure.

NOW LET’S TALK ABOUT COMING TO PONTELANDOLFO THIS YEAR!

Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo is a magical experience that started in 2016. Last year we even won an award. We have a session in May and another in September.

Click here and get started on a Culinary adventure


2025 Writers’ Refuge in the Sannio Hills is our second writer’s retreat. Last year Pontelandolfo hosted playwrights who raved about the experience. This June, creative writers are encouraged to spend time with us.

Click here and create in a nurturing sanctuary

Hope to see you this summer in Pontelandolfo.

Ci vediamo a presto.

Midge

Culture Shock

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo

Oh no, has it really been more than a month since I shared my adventures with you? Were you thinking “she must be off doing something magical.” “Maybe she is checking out the new murals in Pompeii.”

Sigh, I am staring blankly out the window clutching my wallet to my chest. We flew back to New Jersey at the end of January and ran smack into the big bad brick wall of culture shock.

cul·ture shock (Definition from Oxford Languages)

  1. the feeling of disorientation experienced by someone who is suddenly subjected to an unfamiliar culture, way of life, or set of attitudes.

WHAT! WHAT! NOOOOO!

How much???? NO! NOT THAT MUCH! HEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLP!

HOW LONG? Where am I?????

“Jack,” I queried, “Did I become mean looking or just old and nasty? Unless I say good morning first, everyone passing us is ignoring us.” The ever logical Jack replied, ” No one in Ewing knows your name. Most people are just getting on with their lives. Not everything is about you. We aren’t in Pontelandolfo anymore.”

I really miss the cultural and personal connection that comes from a bunch of people knowing my name and hearing “ciao Midge.” Even if everyone in the pharmacy is a stranger they’ll say Buon giorno to each other. Simple welcoming phrases can put on smile on a lonely person’s face and pull me out of my doldrums.

We love to eat out and don’t need an occasion. Just the joy of – what BS – OK, at this point in my life I’d rather be creating and writing than cooking. So we do eat out a lot. Lunch every day In Pontelandolfo, home cooked with love at Bar Elimar or Ponte Simone cost me about $20 for the two of us. Often less. Out to lunch in NJ my hand trembled when I signed the credit card for a cheap two roll lunch with miso soup at a substandard sushi restaurant that cost $50 for two people. Don’t get me started about the cost of bad coffee in a cookie cutter coffee place.

I miss starting my day with a trip to Cafè Style, chatting with the owner and having him make a perfect super hot, low on foam cappuccino.

“Un euro per favore.” Yup, one euro for a perfect coffee. Since the euro and dollar are almost par you can see why I shudder at the $3.50 to $5.00 almost OK tasting cappuccinos to be found near our condo. Stop, asking If I want whipped cream! Ugggg.

And what is this “there is a 3.5% surcharge if you use a credit card?” Talk about declassè. Dear restaurant and store owner, It is the cost of doing business, raise your prices to cover the cost. Or, as the evil kid in my brain thought, are they just doing the surcharge thing to grow their profit margin and the prices already cover the surcharge. Seriously, is this just a New Jersey thing or is it happening everywhere?

I will admit if the amount I’m spending in Pontelandolfo is less than 40 or 50 euro, I pay in cash. They don’t do the up-charge but I am guessing that a fee must be there.

Don’t get me started on medical issues. Knowing the early bird gets the appointment, I started calling the doctors we wanted to see in early December. My thought was we would be able to see the doctors we have loved for years the first week we were back. Not! Calling in early December meant seeing specialists at the end of February. And all of these frustrating gate-keepers! I had a million questions about Jack’s new Italian pacemaker that obviously wouldn’t get answered until we were in the office. Using WhatsApp, I am able to communicate directly with our Italian specialists. Doctors who actually respond themselves within a day. Sigh… We are only here for a few months so I will suck it up.

“Your co-pay maam for the anticoagulant that your exceptional cardiologists in two countries feel is important to keep you from stroking out is only $500 a month.” You laugh! That is true. Being an inquisitive patient advocate, before we left Italy, I had called my New Jersey pharmacy and my medicare part D insurance provider asking what the anticoagulant pills would cost me a month. After laughing out loud and then cursing out loud, I went to my Italian pharmacy and bought retail the three months worth of pills I needed for my stay in NJ for – drum roll please – 96 euros a month or about 100 dollars a month. Other brands that our USA chums were prescribed would still cost me over $200 a month. In Italy, my universal healthcare system knows not taking the drug could kill me, therefore, like Jack’s diabetes medicine, it has no co-pay.

YES I WILL STOP WHINING! There I feel so much better just getting that last whine out of my system. You all, my delightful readers, are like extended family. And as you know, only our family ever sees us whine. (Ha ha ha.) Thank you. Grazie.

All that bitching out of my system, it is important that you know that we reallydo like being back in New Jersey. I get to see people I adore, eat food from lots of different cultures, ramble through our lovely condo building for instantaneous cocktail hours and easily enjoy lots of urban culture.

Speaking of culture – who is ready to visit Pontelandolfo in 2025?

Click here to find about both our Cooking and WRiting Programs.

Thanks for listening. I promise no more whining. Talk again soon.

Ci Vediamo

Midge