Tag Archives: Croatia

Penn Alumni Travel: Adriatic Antiquities 2014

Author: Professor Ralph Rosen, Department of Classical Studies

We began our Adriatic Antiquities adventure (a Penn Alumni Travel trip) in Venice, where we boarded our ship, the Aegean Odyssey. The ship was relatively small, accommodating only some 350 passengers, and delightfully appointed with two restaurants, several bars and many decks offering spectacular views from all perspectives. We had a small group of 8 adventurous Penn alums plus my wife, Ellen, and about 60 others in our tour group from various other alumni organizations across the country. Other passengers on the ship included a huge group from Australia and Great Britain, which added to the continual liveliness and good cheer of the trip. Almost every day there was a lecture of one sort of another to attend, since the ship had two art historians of their own onboard, and there were two Classicists in our group—myself, and a specialist in ancient Greek politics and Athenian history from Northwestern University. I gave two lectures early in the trip on various aspects of Greek culture, the first on Greek concepts of beauty and ugliness, the second on traditions of early Greek scandalous poetry or satire. I had also sent everyone in our group a copy of Aristophanes’ Clouds in advance of the trip to provide some background to our visit to Athens, and we met one afternoon during cocktail hour in the ship’s lounge to discuss it. This fast-paced comedy addresses the ‘culture wars’ of Classical Athens, pitting traditionalists against a new generation of thinkers and educators, and inspired a lively and memorable discussion.

On our first day we took a vaporetto to mainland Venice to visit the Cathedral of St. Mark. We had a superb guide who walked us through the complex and fascinating history of this amazing structure. The Cathedral dates to the 9th century CE, though the current building can be traced to the 11th. The interior walls and ceilings are covered with gold mosaics of dazzling beauty, telling various stories from the Old and New Testaments, and about the saints important to the Cathedral, such as Sts. Mark and Clement. We learned that much of these were poorly ‘restored’ in the 19th century, and are thought to have suffered much as a result; but to the viewer from ground-level, these mosaics are simply breathtaking.


That evening we were treated to a very special private visit to the Peggy Guggenheim Museum in Venice. This museum, located in what was once Guggenheim’s private home along the Grand Canal, the Palazzo Venier dei Leoni, houses an extraordinary collection of modernist, surrealist and abstract expressionist artists. We rode back to the ship in small boats along the canal in the early evening as the golden Venetian sun made the Renaissance buildings on the land magically glow.


From Venice we sailed directly across the Adriatic over night to our first destination in Croatia, Zadar, in the northern region of the Dalmatian coast. The early history of this entire area is one of continual tension between indigenous inhabitants and incursions from Greeks with an eye on colonization. When Rome became the dominant power in the Mediterranean in subsequent centuries, one finds archaeological traces of their settlements and Romanization as well. By the middle ages, the influence of Venice was ubiquitous among the cities along the Dalmatian coast, and we learned much about these many historical layers from our expert guides.

After Zadar, we made our way down the coast to the Croatian cities of Split, Dubrovnik and the gorgeous peninsula of Korcula. We sailed to Split during the night, and we awoke in the port as an intense thunderstorm was just beginning to break up, offering beautiful dark-grey cloudscapes interspersed with sunlight and blue skies.


Our day in Split began with a visit to the palace of Diocletian, who built this massive complex as his retirement home in 305 CE. Diocletian was emperor of Rome from 284-305 CE, which was a particularly colorful and complicated political period. Diocletian had first appointed a co-emperor Maximian in 286, but for strategic reasons appointed two more co-regents in 293, Galerius and Constantius, dividing up the empire into four different sectors. This historical period became known as the ‘tetrarchy’ or ‘rule of the four emperors.’ Quite unusually, Diocletian actually abdicated his rule and then retired to the lavish palace complex which he had built for himself in Split. From the 7th century CE on, long after it had been abandoned by the Romans, locals moved into the structures, setting up homes and businesses. Domitian’s mausoleum, for example, was transformed into the Cathedral of St. Duje (Domnius) built over an ancient shrine. Built at the beginning of the 7th century, we were told that it’s the oldest Catholic cathedral in the world which hasn’t had to be completely rebuilt. The site reflects today all these many historical layers of use, re-use, re-purposing, occupation and now, tourism. Side trips in the afternoon brought us inland to two other Roman sites, Salona and Trogir. In Salona we visited a Roman burial site, where we saw some wonderfully preserved Roman sarcophagi, along with tombs and mausolea from later periods as well. Trogir was a modest little town, founded as a Greek colony in the 3rd century BCE, now rich in medieval and Byzantine architectural sites; we had time to visit the unusual and impressively well-preserved Romanesque-Gothic church dedicated to St. Lawrence (13th century.). I have to confess that simply sitting in the public square of this utterly charming town late in the afternoon with an espresso and biscotto was one of my favorite moments of the trip!


Korcula was a magical place—we had to approach from the ship in small boats across shimmering blue-green water. At the coastline the water was crystal-clear and you could watch schools of fish from the docks going about their business. The Old Town was built in a fishbone pattern to maximize the flow of winds, thus creating a kind of urban air-conditioning—or so we were told by our genial guide. She also told us of the dispute about Marco Polo. Despite the fact that the handbooks all list his birthplace as Venice, Korcula claims him as one of their native sons. Whether or not this is true, every other street restaurant and guest-house in Korcula is named ‘Marco Polo’-something-or-other.


Our next stop was Dubrovnik, said to be one of the best-preserved medieval walled cities in Europe. It had a touristic feel about it, but we still enjoyed its antiquities, particularly the Dominican monastery with its 15th-century cloister and the Cathedral of Our Lady, which has on display a painting of the Assumption by Titian.

We continued our journey down the Dalmatian coast heading for Greece, but along the way the ship’s captain made a detour to take us into the famous Bay of Kotor, a fjord-like inlet in SW Montenegro, situated between Croatia and Albania. The sea was calm and the sun shining brightly as we sailed around this breathtakingly beautiful part of the Adriatic.

Kotor Bay


The antiquities we visited along the Croatian coast were largely Roman remains and later, though most of the sites had been settled earlier by Greek colonists. The remaining sites on our trip were in Greece proper, and often reflected Mediterranean culture from even earlier historical periods. Most of our guides, however, were extremely knowledgeable about modern Greek history as well, and we learned much from them about the long and fraught occupation of Greece by the Ottomans, and eventual emancipation and independence in the 19th century.

Our first visit on Greek soil was the island of Corfu, also known by its Greek name Kerkyra, and to students of Thucydides, Corcyra (Thucydides famously documented the effects of factional strife there in the 5th century. BCE). We toured the Venetian fortifications, which afforded some amazing views along the coast, but more charming was the town itself—a bustling place inhabited by real people living real lives and not only for tourists. A few of us explored the old city in the afternoon, and even stumbled upon the Corfu Synagogue, where we met a caretaker who was happy to show us around. Their traditions (and building) go back at least 400 years, though the community is small, and reduced even more as a consequence of WWII.

Corfu Synagogue


Not too far from Corfu is a small port called Preveza, where we docked for the morning and took an inland excursion to the town of Arta.  The visit to Arta was spectacular. The famous ‘Bridge of Arta’ crossing the Arachthos River dates from the early 17th century,  but its foundations date to the Roman period.

Arta Bridge

According to local legend, a bird came to the original architect and declared that the bridge could only be completed if the architect would sacrifice his wife. While she was being buried alive, it is said, she put a curse on the bridge, but when told that her brother would be crossing the bridge she changed her curses to blessings. Near the bridge is the amazing cathedral Church of the Paregoretissa, built at the end of the 13th century. This is a beautifully preserved and well maintained example of grand Byzantine architecture, with spectacular mosaics decorating the interior. The central dome has a magnificent mosaic of Christ Pantokrator with angels and prophets, and interior walls are graced with grand religious frescoes from the 16th and 17th centuries.

Arta Church


From Preveza, we sailed down the western coast of the Peloponnese to Olympia, famed birthplace of the Olympic games. The Greeks have done a superb job with this site, creating a beautiful archaeological park with elegant landscaping, excellent signage and an inviting, informative museum of artifacts from their excavations. Olympia was internationally important from the 8th century BCE well into late antiquity, by which time it had fallen into Roman hands, but by the 6th century CE it was covered over by alluvial deposits, evidently the result of flooding from repeated tsunamis. It wasn’t re-discovered until 1766, and the first excavations only began in 1829. The site itself indicates an expansive array of buildings within a sanctuary, including temples to Zeus and Hera, and adjacent to this area are a hippodrome for horse and chariot racing and stadium for track events.


Overnight we sailed from Olympia to the famous port city of Nafplio. This was a particularly busy day for our group, with two trips scheduled (the afternoon trip was optional, but we couldn’t get enough!). In the morning we made our way by bus to the famous site of Mycenae. What I found particularly interesting about this site was how remote and wild the area seemed to be today in light of the fact that during the heydey of Mycenaean culture, in the 14th century BCE, it was a major cultural center with a sizable population. The monumentality of this site was astonishing—huge ‘Cyclopean’ stone blocks, grand archways, brilliant gold masks and large intricately patterned pottery. This was clearly a rich and sophisticated society that left a huge mark on subsequent Greek culture.


After a restorative lunch in the town square of Nafplio, we set out again for Epidaurus, an area that rose to prominence in the Classical and Hellenistic periods of Greek history. Epidaurus has two main sites of interest, both iconic of ancient Greek culture. The first is the great temple of the healing god Asclepius. There were many healing shrines to Asclepius around the Mediterranean, but Epidaurus’ was one of the largest and most famous. People with a variety of afflictions would come from all around seeking a cure, and an entire micro-economy seems to have emerged around such sites. There was a whole industry of priests, shopkeepers selling terracotta votive offerings (usually representing whatever organ or body part needed healing), guest-houses, etc. The idea was for the sick person to spend the night sleeping inside the temple (for a fee, of course), so that the god Asclepius could appear in a dream and offer instructions on how to be healed. This process was called ‘incubation’, which literally means ‘sleeping in’. Many of the stories of these cures have come down to us on stone inscriptions publicly erected by grateful patients or publicity-minded temple administrators. These narratives often seem a little far-fetched to us today, but evidently there were many satisfied customers!

Epidaurus is also famous for its amazing theater, where Greek tragedies and comedies (and other dramatic forms) would have been performed. The remains of this theater date from the Hellenistic period; it’s one of the best preserved and most beautiful examples of theater construction. The theater could hold some 13,000 spectators in the classic Greek semi-circular form, with rows of seats rising steeply into a hill. The acoustics are uncannily live, as is continually being demonstrated by visitors who clap their hands or orate in the circular orchestra where the actors would have performed. In this theater there really wasn’t a bad seat in the house!



Our last destination was, at long last, the glorious city of Athens itself. We pulled into the harbor at Piraeus in the morning, around 10 km from the city, and wasted no time in preparing ourselves for the trek to the Acropolis and its Parthenon—perhaps the single most iconic building in all of Western culture. It was hot and crowded with tourists, but we all made it to the top of the hill and stood in awe of the Parthenon and the spectacular panoramic views of the entire city. I think this was an emotional moment for all of us, and our expert guide added plenty of detail to complement our feelings of transcendence—its origins in fifth century BCE Athens as part of Pericles’ building program, its Hellenistic history, its fate under the Romans, its later re-purposing by Christians, and later still by Ottoman Muslims.


We left in a state of exhilaration, and relocated for our last two nights in a hotel in the center of the city. Our afternoon was unscheduled, so we all went in different directions. I made my way to the National Archaeological museum, where I met one of the other Penn alums, and we spent a wonderful afternoon exploring their incredible collection. There was room after room of all the choice artifacts from all periods of Greek history; I was quite overwhelmed, really, by the richness of this collection—rooms of archaic kouroi, huge Geometric-style vases, Cycladic art, and hundreds of black-figure and red-figure Athenian pottery, just to name a few of the highlights.

Our final morning was spent at the new Acropolis Museum, adjacent to the Acropolis itself, but at ground level looking up. The building only opened in 2009 after years of planning and false starts, but is now a marvel of architecture and city planning. Designed by renowned architect Bernard Tschumi, the museum houses all the artifacts found on the Acropolis, and itself sits on top of another archaeological site of Classical and Byzantine urban remains. Glass flooring at the entrance allows visual access to the excavations below and juxtaposes brilliantly the artifact and modern repository of artifacts. The top part of the museum is in parallel alignment to the Acropolis, affording the viewer both a window on, and a kind of mirror to, the object of its contemplation up the hill. This was an expansive, uncluttered and intelligently laid out museum, and a powerful testament to the aesthetic and political sophistication of Greek culture.

Our trip was unfortunately nearing its end, but we had time for one more excursion that afternoon, to the Benaki Museum, which was only a short walk from our hotel. The Benaki Museum might be considered Athens’ answer to Philadelphia’s Barnes Museum in that it houses the private collection of art and antiquities from a single collector with an idiosyncratic vision, that of Antonis Benakis. This elegant private mansion contains an extraordinary and eclectic collection of mostly Greek art, from antiquity to the 20th century. Since Benakis’ death in 1954 the museum has continued to add to its collection (unlike the Barnes), which now has more than 37,000 objects. After almost two weeks of continual exposure to ancient artifacts, I think most of us found it refreshing to see a deep collection of fine and decorative arts from the 18th through 20th centuries. They have an especially fine collection of cultural artifacts from the period of Greek independence (1821-1835). Among these is a marvelous portrait of the great English poet, Lord Byron, in traditional Greek dress, who was so committed to the cause of Greek independence that he even took command of a rebel army against the Turks in 1824. Unfortunately, he died of an infectious disease before the actual attack, but his inspirational passion for everything Greek made him something of a national hero after his death.

Benaki-Lord Byron

After a final gathering in the evening at the hotel to celebrate our rich and glorious trip together, and to say our sad goodbyes, we prepared ourselves for the return home. We packed an incredible amount of travel and learning into these two weeks, but I’m pretty sure everyone in our group was secretly wishing it would never end.

Professor Ralph Rosen with his group of Penn alumni and friends.

Professor Ralph Rosen with his group of Penn alumni and friends.

[Interested in joining a future Penn Alumni Travel trip hosted by a Penn faculty member? Click here to view our entire 2015 schedule. We will be returning to Greece and Italy on the following tours: Southern Italy and Sicily (April/May 2015), Ancient Greece and Turkey (Sept/October 2015), and Portrait of Italy (October 2015).]


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Penn Alumni Travel: Cruising the Dalmatian Coast

Author: Professor David Wallace, Penn Department of English

Our Penn Alumni Travel group met up at Venice on Friday June 21st to sail down the Adriatic, along the Dalmatian coast, and to visit the beautiful seaside cities of Croatia, mostly, and Montenegro. Our vessel was L’Austral, a French ship based in Marseilles with French officers—and a French chef, French baker, and French pastry maker. Following the mandatory lifeboat drill, we set sail at 6:30 PM, when the colors of Venice, lit by western light slanting across the lagoon, are at their most beautiful.

Beautiful Venice.

Beautiful Venice

After dinner, we were able to observe the sun setting magnificently into the ocean behind us, reassuring proof that we were heading due west.


I gave the first of the lectures offered on this cruise, calling it “On Heading East Out of Venice. ” Attendance at this and all other lectures during the week was remarkably high; our highly-educated alums were clearly thirsty for knowledge, and keen to open discussions that carried on all week. One very timely question was: how do the people of Croatia feel about joining the European Union next week? We resolved to try and find out by asking as many questions of our guides, and the people we met, as possible. Another question: What is at stake in the term “Dalmatian coast’?” Italians have long mixed with Slavs in this region, and many of them clearly believed, up to World War II, that “Dalmatia” should properly be seen as part of a greater Italian, once Roman, Empire. I thus talked of the ways in which this coastal strip had long been fought for between rival powers, and that its location midway between the empires of Rome and Constantinople, western Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Christianity, made this inevitable. So, although more recent conflicts involving Croatia, Serbia, and Bosnia continue to grab the headlines, the medieval coastal cities that we were to explore, I suggested, will be marked by signs of more ancient struggles.

The weather during this trip was beautiful; warm but not oppressively so, with a gentle wind and just one thunderstorm late in the week. The water was so calm that you had little sense of motion: indeed, sometimes you needed to look out of the window to realize that the boat was actually in motion.  But the passing landscapes were so beautiful it was always a good idea to check.


We sometimes docked in harbors and sometimes dropped anchor offshore; small boats or “tenders” moved us easily to the quayside. The coastal colors of the houses were stunning, especially when set against clear blue skies.

Our first port of call was Split, where two of our Penn alums had a most happy rendezvous: Eric and Katherine Gall met up with their son, Dan. Eric, a distinguished physician, works full time (after retirement!) in Tuscon, Arizona. Katherine is Croatian, and their son Dan has settled in Split and married a local girl while working for a Human Rights organization. Dan joined us for the visit to the marvelous Meštrović museum, and the family made plans to meet up after the cruise.


The Galls meet up in Split.

At Split, we explored the remains of the vast palace of the Roman Emperor Diocletian, which faces the harbor. Diocletian spared no expense in building this palace, using the lustrous white stone from the island of Brač, and importing marble from Greece and Italy, and columns and sphinxes from Egypt. Some 3,000 people lived here in some 220 buildings; there were 16 rectangular guard towers. Diocletian was born locally of parents who may have been slaves, and he worked his way up through the Roman military. He ruled as Roman emperor for twenty-one years, but decided to return to his native Dalmatia for his retirement. He was one of the few Emperors of the third and fourth centuries to die of natural causes, and the first in the history of the Empire to retire voluntarily; and he retired to Split.

Diocletian was a notorious persecutor and torturer of Christians: in Serbian mythology he is remembered not as Diocletian but as Dukljan, the adversary of God. Christianity did make progress in Dalmatia, and in c. 347 CE one of the most influential figures in Christian history was born there. This was St Jerome, who was to translate the Bible into Latin in a form, the Vulgate, that was to be standard for Christendom for a thousand years, and for Roman Catholics even longer.  The Roman and Roman Catholic status of Split thus seemed very strongly established as we walked among the ruins of Diocletian’s palace.

The ruins of Diocletian's palace.

The ruins of Diocletian’s palace.

But Slavic claims to the locality were made firmly evident by a giant modern statue, located strategically right by the Golden Gate of Diocletian’s palace. The toe of this huge statue, we discovered, is well worn, because rubbing it brings good luck.


The figure represented below is Gregor Ninski: he’s holding a book with one hand, and making a defiant gesture with the other. He was a bishop who conducted Catholic church services in the Croatian language, rather than in Latin, following an Assembly in the year 926.


The earlier Croats had accepted the authority of the Byzantine empire, governed from Constantinople, but under Charlemagne, who was crowned Holy Roman Emperor at Rome in 800, they were intensively exposed to Roman Catholic Christianity; there were mass baptisms in the ninth century. Croatia today is still predominantly Roman Catholic (88 %); 4.4% of Croatians are Serbian Orthodox, with 5.2% unaffiliated.

Catholics will know that Roman Catholics had to wait a long time to hear mass celebrated in their own, native languages: until the 1960s, in fact, and Vatican II. So this was a precocious bid by Gregory of Nin to let Croatians have their own liturgical language, and of course, Rome did not approve. Gregor also wanted to weaken ties with Rome, to establish a church governed chiefly by local Croatian bishops, and to make the archbishopric of Split the effective center of religious authority. He celebrated mass in the local language, and also advocated married clergy and opposed the Roman alphabet, preferring the use of Glagolica, the local script (the term comes from the verb glagoliti, which means ‘to speak’).

Glagolitic script is first associated with the saints Cyril and Methodius from the Greek city of Thessaloniki. They were sent south by the Emperor of Byzantium in 862 to make converts to Greek Orthodox Christianity among Slavs. Some of their followers traveled further, into Dalmatian and Croatia—where their script, Glagolitic, was adopted and slightly modified. It was this script that Gregory of Nin wanted to substitute for the usual Latin of the Roman Catholic church. What’s amazing is that eventually this was allowed to happen: not in Gregory’s lifetime, but 300 years later. It was in the year 1248 that Pope Innocent IV gave the Croats of southern Dalmatia the unique privilege of using their own preferred script and liturgical language for the Roman Catholic rite—and eventually, this privilege spread right along the coast. Some of the Glagolitic missals or liturgical books were even produced in Rome. This is something that the papacy really did not allow anywhere else before Vatican II, in the 1960s. This is why Gregory of Nin is revered as a pro-typical nationalist leader of the Croatian people.

I think, then, that the placing of that statue of Gregory of Nin by the Golden Gate of Diocletian’s palace, at Split, was a piece of genius. It says, yes, the heritage of Rome forms a vital part of our identity, and we are pleased to acknowledge our local Roman emperor, who grew up right here. But we are also Catholic Slavs who won the right, long before any other nation in Roman Catholic Europe, to worship on our own terms, in our own language: we have written our own history in our own language in a script that we invented.

We had thus seen and learned a great deal on our first full day. We were very happy to gather as a group of Penn alums for cocktails in the beautiful evening light, after visiting Kotar, and then to have dinner together.

Dalmatian Coast 1

Penn Alumni with faculty host Professor David Wallace.

Our explorations  at Split helped us make sense of everything seen later in the cruise. The further south we sailed, we realized, the more Mediterranean and easy-going things felt, and the more observantly religious. Locals along the way told us that, yes, they might well cheer for the Croatian football team (which had recently beaten Serbia), but that life along the Dalmatian coast was very different from that in Zagreb, the capital. And since these coastal towns are back by very high, almost impenetrable mountains their life really did unfold along the coast. Thus to visit these beautiful small cities by boat was really the only way to travel, the only way to make sense of them, to experience them as people had for thousands of years.

The southernmost point of our voyage brought us to Kotor, Montenegro, a beautiful and ancient city in a proudly independent land. The cathedral of St. Tryphon is a beautiful Romanesque space, with gold-winged angels.


Gold-winged angel in the cathedral of St. Tryphon.

Steps lead from the edge of the city upwards to a fortress, from which the flag of Montenegro proudly flies.


It was possible to look down from this great height and spot our boat in the bay, tiny in the distance.

PIC 10

View of Kotor, Montenegro.

We arrived at Dubrovnik, for many centuries known as Ragusa, late on the same evening: it was possible to go ashore and explore the city by night. I went ashore with Penn alum (and west Philadelphia native) Bob Tollen, and his wife, Bryn Mawr alumna, Ellen. The polished marble of the streets was illuminated by the streetlights, giving the romantic effect of water. We made the formal tour the following day.

PIC 11

At some of our stops the locals told us of rather panicked preparations for EU membership: such as the cutting down of woodland and the planting of vines, before the EU forbade or put a quota on wine production. On the journey back west, between coastal towns, there was a remarkably informative “village meeting,” in which three locals spoke of recent history and speculated on the future. It was noticeable that the older two speakers were nervous about joining the EU, but the youngest of them, a teacher, seemed more optimistic; and his pupils, too, he said, were more excited than alarmed. Croatians are clearly worried about losing measures of protection for their traditional industries, such as shipbuilding. But the clearest demonstration of entrepreneurial spirit was shown by young girls at Rovinj, our last port of call, who were selling spectacular sea shells they had collected themselves; they must have been about eight years old.

All the Penn alums showed great loyalty in coming to my last lecture—given at 9:15 PM, after the captain’s farewell banquet. I tried to help us imagine what it might mean to approach Venice as travelers from the past, hoping for the right wind, knowing that if we made it back we would achieve great prestige in our communities: for not all travelers who headed east from Venice were expected to return, and those who intended to sail had to settle their affairs before leaving home. I proposed the music used by  Viscont in his film of Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice as appropriate for heralding our arrival: the adagio from Mahler’s fifth symphony.  And I ended with a collective pop quiz on everything learned over the last week, in lectures and from local guides.  I threatened to have the captain turn the boat around should the alums flunk this test, but they passed with flying colors.  The weather finally turned cloudy and cooler, but we arrived safely and our marvelous journey along the Dalmatian coast was at an end. When stories about Croatia began appearing the following week, as it joined the European Union on July 1st, we all felt able to empathize with its hopes and fears. And we know that, whatever the future holds, they are blessed with coastal towns of ancient pedigree and stunning beauty: even washing on a clothes line looks poetic:

PIC 12

[Penn Alumni Travel will be heading back to the Dalmatian Coast and the Adriatic Sea next year. Click here for more information about our Adriatic Antiquities cruise (June 26-July 9, 2014) with Classics Professor Ralph Rosen. Professor David Wallace will also be joining us next year as a faculty host on the tour, In the Wake of the Vikings (June 13-21, 2014).]

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Penn Alumni Travel: Italian Inspirations

Author: Professor Michael Gamer, Penn Department of English

All roads may lead to Rome, but ours this spring instead took that ancient city as our starting point — perhaps because the Penn Alumni Travel Italian Inspirations tour went not by land but by sea. After an overnight stay amidst Romans celebrating independence day (the Festa della Liberazione), we took the train to Civitavecchia and boarded the Riviera, operated by Oceania cruise lines. This was no Carnival Cruise. The Riviera was medium-sized and elegant, its passengers primarily alumni groups like our own.

photo 4

Of the twenty-two schools represented on the cruise, only Penn and UCLA sent host professors, which made our groups (at times) objects of envy — at least so my co-travelers were kind enough to tell me ;-). Joking aside, I will say that, as a lecturer, I have never spoken to such large groups before. The ship’s main auditorium seated six to seven hundred people, and while speaking about the Grand Tour and its history I found fewer empty seats than I anticipated.

Indeed, in our way we were doing our own Grand Tour. Although at a much faster pace (seven days instead of seven or even seventeen months) and taking a somewhat different route from those taken by travelers 200-400 years ago. Rather than beginning in Milan and heading south before circling back to Venice, our tour engaged in something closer to Lord Byron’s travels of 1809-10, when all of Europe was either at war or under the dominion of Napoleon Bonaparte. Byron, therefore, was forced to do most of his traveling by sea, hopping around the Mediterranean from port to port, gathering antiquities and swimming whenever possible. He was engaging in a time-honored tradition by doing so; since the ancient Phoenicians, the Mediterranean has been southern Europe’s freeway, traveling by sea always an easier proposition than traveling by land.

In our case, we headed from Rome south to Sorrento, where some of us saw Mount Vesuvius and others Pompeii before sampling the local limoncello and watching the sun set over Capri. By the time we awakened the next morning, we were nearing Taormina on the island of Sicily, home of that other great Italian volcano, Mount Etna, pictured here in the background of Taormina’s beautiful amphitheater:

photo 5

Some of you reading this post will have traveled by cruise ship before. I had not — and there is something magical about waking up to find yourself in a new place. In our case, days three and four found us arrived at the islands of Zakynthos and Corfu, respectively, followed in the course of the week by the stunning cities of Dubrovnik and Venice, where we disembarked for good. Though I have traveled many times in Italy, these Greek and Croatian stops were entirely new to me, and a real pleasure. They possess a color palate unlike Italy, something at once stripped down and sparkling. There is something at once stark and beautiful about the coastline and buildings, the contrast of blue water next to white cliffs and houses.

Zakynthos 1

Zakynthos 2

Of course, nothing quite ever can prepare you for Venice, whether you’ve been there a hundred times or never. After six days of superb touring, that final day we all scattered to wander this wonderful city on our own. Some of us to San Marco; others to the Accademia, the Guggenheim, and other museums; and still others just wandering the narrow calle, trying to get lost. And, so far as I know, none of us quite felt moved enough to copy Byron’s exploit of swimming through the canals.


I will confess, though, that for me all roads did end up leading back to Rome: after saying goodbye to my fellow Penn Alumni Travelers I spent a few days there, soaking up the sun, revisiting old sites and taking in new ones. I can hardly wait to return in October 2014 — this time touring overland with the Flavors of Tuscany tour in October 2014. Hope to see you there!

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Travel to the Dalamatian Coast

Author: Kiera Reilly, C’93

In July, Penn Alumni Travel is once again offering Coastal Life Along the Adriatic Sea, a cruise along the beautiful Dalmatian Coast. Beginning in Venice, the trip makes stops in Sibenik, Split, Hvar, Korcula, Pula, Rovinj, and Dubrovnik, Croatia; Kotor Montenegro; and Boznia-Herzegovina. The featured guest speaker on the trip is Gen. Wesley Clark, (ret), NATO Supreme Allie Commander Europe, who led military operations during the Kosovo War.

The Dalmatian Coast is a beautiful coastline – with limestone buildings, palm tree-lined streets, and glistening blue water of the Adriatic.

Here are some photos from my trip there in 2008. This series is from Dubrovnik.

This photo was taken in Hvar, Croatia.

And finally,  Korcula.

You too can experience and wonder for yourself next July.

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