Photos by © Brandon Elijah Scott / Eye & Pen – unless otherwise noted.
If you’ve been keeping up with my updates for this trip, then you know that I’ve been pretty much winging the entire thing. But after a few weeks in, I was contacted to join in on a blog tour of a small seaside village in Italy, Cesenatico. Some of the details were a bit up in the air for a bit, but I knew I needed to make my way east from Spain. So after Morocco, I decided to go down the French riviera and then across the northern part of Italy, so at the end of May, I would be arriving just in time for the Cesenatico BellaVita blog tour. I took a train from Florence to Rimini a day early, just in case you-know-what hit the fan – since I know from countless experiences of mayhem and disorder, that nothing in travel goes perfectly as planned.
I knew nothing of Rimini, except that they have a fun party hostel close to the coast. So, the moment I hopped off the train, I went toward the beach, by way of following the fisherman’s canal – the dirty and rustic fishing boats reeked of millions of fish caught. At the end of the canal, the beach loomed moody and gray, melding with the incoming waves. The beaches were empty, lined by row after row with hundreds of thousands of umbrella holsters. I walked from the canal for upwards of 3.5 miles, switching to the strip of shops and restaurants to mix up the monotony of the empty tourist destination. After a couple of hours of walking, I found my way to the emptier parts of the beach, where the beaches were public and no sign of evil umbrella planning or anything of the sort. I found a little makeshift sign that told me that my hostel was two blocks away from the road that lines the beaches.
A few minutes later, I found the Sunflower Beach Backpackers Hostel on my right and I entered. The receptionist sat behind a bar that stretched along the right side of the room. There was a pool table and various sets of tables and chairs that lined the other side. On the other side of the hall from reception was a door way that lead to other common areas and the kitchen, but to the right of the doorway a group of people were lounged out on an open wood stage filled with large red pillows. They were laughing and joking, having a great time – I had heard that this hostel was one of the more fun ones in all of Europe, so even though I only had one night here, I wanted to make it a good one.
A few minutes later, I found the Sunflower Beach Backpackers Hostel on my right and I entered. The receptionist sat behind a bar that stretched along the right side of the room. There was a pool table and various sets of tables and chairs that lined the other side. On the other side of the hall from reception was a door way that lead to other common areas and the kitchen, but to the right of the doorway a group of people were lounged out on an open wood stage filled with large red pillows. They were laughing and joking, having a great time – I had heard that this hostel was one of the more fun ones in all of Europe, so even though I only had one night here, I wanted to make it a good one.
I checked in, found my room, unpacked my bag, showered and joined the crowd. Instantly, I made those special short-time abroad friends and we talked for a bit before splitting up for dinner. Some of them worked at the hostel and had planned to cook dinner, and another new arrival and I decided to do the same. We set off to find a market and we stocked up on all kinds of pastas and veggies and decided to make a massive mix that would have fit an Italian version of Thanksgiving feast better than a night of planned drinking. After dinner, the beers at the bar started and seemed to never end. There was an American guy from Los Angeles, who looked like a shorter and bulkier version of Kobe Bryant. He wore a Lakers cap, fondly enough. He was cheerful and friendly, and boisterous, like that of a chuckling Santa Claus. He was originally from Nigeria, but after years of studying and living in the U.S., you really couldn’t tell in the way he talked or fit in with everyone. We became friends and talked long about home, and sports and other mind-numbing bar talk, but the key moment was when we both decided to make an American team and take on everyone at the bar in a pool tournament. At first, no one could ebb away our concentration and as the beers continued to flow, our playing became better and our “U.S.A.” chants became louder. It was all fun and games the entire time. Teams came, and teams went, losing, horribly. And then around beer 5, our streak went to hell and we lost every game after, but that’s life for you. It was a fond memory that ended with me calling it a night around 1 AM and waving farewell to the group heading off to a last-minute bar crawl – I’ll have you know that this was a weekday, and this place was hoppin’. So, if you like to travel abroad and catch the occasional party hostel, the Sunflower is a good one.
The next day, I took a regional train along the coast and in less than 30 minutes, I arrived in Cesenatico. Directly off the train station, the town didn’t have much of an interesting vibe and look to it. I talked to a taxi driver for some directions to my hotel and I was off. Within 5-10 minutes of walking, I was met with the canal. It ran about 1.5 km down to the Adriatic Sea. It was filled with boats and fishing vessels, and was lined with little shops and restaurants. Cesenatico instantly went from an uninteresting small town like that of some in the U.S. Midwest to a tiny gem, hidden between the highly more visited cities of Rimini and Ravena. I walked through the western areas of the canal, but had to rush off to find my hotel, because the blog tour had specified a meet up time nearby. After a long way, I found the Elisabetta Hotel in the neighboring sea town of Villamarina.
The Elisabetta was a nice place, complete with a furnished porch stretching around most of the building and a swimming pool up on the 2nd-level deck. Walking in I was greeted with a smiling face and to my slight-surprise, they were expecting me and recognized who I was immediately. I was checked in with ease and seconds later, I could be found nearly-passed out on the bed, tired from the previous night’s festivities. I somehow willed myself to get up and change, and then head off to the blogger meet-up point. Various bloggers from all over Italy, with a few from around Europe and even a couple (including myself) from much farther places around the world were a part of the tour. From what started out a bit awkward, with silly jokes that only a blogger would appreciate, we all became engrossed in differing conversations that lapped in-between, interwoven from person to person. The best of momentary friendships were struck, and I knew that even if the weather broke and decided to rain down upon us, this would still be a great experience.
The Elisabetta was a nice place, complete with a furnished porch stretching around most of the building and a swimming pool up on the 2nd-level deck. Walking in I was greeted with a smiling face and to my slight-surprise, they were expecting me and recognized who I was immediately. I was checked in with ease and seconds later, I could be found nearly-passed out on the bed, tired from the previous night’s festivities. I somehow willed myself to get up and change, and then head off to the blogger meet-up point. Various bloggers from all over Italy, with a few from around Europe and even a couple (including myself) from much farther places around the world were a part of the tour. From what started out a bit awkward, with silly jokes that only a blogger would appreciate, we all became engrossed in differing conversations that lapped in-between, interwoven from person to person. The best of momentary friendships were struck, and I knew that even if the weather broke and decided to rain down upon us, this would still be a great experience.
I retired after a couple of hours, eager to relax a bit from the cold breeze. To my ever-mounting surprise, I was greeted by the owner of the hotel, a middle-aged man who (even though he tried his absolute best) spoke little English. He invited me into the dining room and pulled out a chair for me. He explained that as part of the blog tour, all of my meals were paid for and my table would be my own every night that I stayed. After we spoke for a few moments about the town and what the hopes for the tour would be, he left me to my dinner. I was tired and I just hoped that my picky eating style wouldn’t stop me from enjoying a decent meal. The dinner started with a salad and a couple of hot side dish snacks, similar to the Spanish pincho. The owner asked me to fill out a little form of the night’s entrées, where I was asked to choose two and my dessert. I thought to myself, “Well damn, that’s pretty nice.” Considering I’ve been living off of a very frugal meal plan, since I was still backpacking, I was blown away that I would be having multiple courses – which sadly, is the first time it’s happened to me – I tend to never choose places like that, as I always decide that I’d rather travel a bit farther than eat a bit better.
After round one and two disappeared, the two entrées I had put checkmarks near showed up, one by one. I began keeping tabs on how many courses they were serving me. After two delicious plates of heaping amounts of pasta and then breaded and baked local fish, I was filled to burst. And then my waitress brought me TWO MORE PLATES! A seriously tall pile of oysters appeared in one hand and then a carne breaded steak with asparagus in the other. I had to try it all, and I ate what I could, but I couldn’t keep up with her. The final, and SEVENTH course consisted of two plates. One was a plate with a banana and an apple, the other was a plate with a stemmed glass, topped with two-flavor gelato. I was nearly lying face-first on the table, wheezing in deep breaths, as the buttons on my pants burst off from where they were tied and hit the poor waitress in the face, causing her to fall backwards. The plates crashed and hit the couple at the table nearest me and... Okay, I’m joking, but that’s what it felt like. OH and I didn’t even mention the full bottle of white wine they graciously bestowed early on, on my table.
After round one and two disappeared, the two entrées I had put checkmarks near showed up, one by one. I began keeping tabs on how many courses they were serving me. After two delicious plates of heaping amounts of pasta and then breaded and baked local fish, I was filled to burst. And then my waitress brought me TWO MORE PLATES! A seriously tall pile of oysters appeared in one hand and then a carne breaded steak with asparagus in the other. I had to try it all, and I ate what I could, but I couldn’t keep up with her. The final, and SEVENTH course consisted of two plates. One was a plate with a banana and an apple, the other was a plate with a stemmed glass, topped with two-flavor gelato. I was nearly lying face-first on the table, wheezing in deep breaths, as the buttons on my pants burst off from where they were tied and hit the poor waitress in the face, causing her to fall backwards. The plates crashed and hit the couple at the table nearest me and... Okay, I’m joking, but that’s what it felt like. OH and I didn’t even mention the full bottle of white wine they graciously bestowed early on, on my table.
© to the respective owner of this photograph. Needless to say, I was passed out within minutes of reaching my room. The next day, the meet up time wasn’t until early afternoon, so I took full advantage of being able to sleep in my OWN bed, in the DARK, and in pure SILENCE – unlike the past month in hostels. While I wanted to explore and have a go at the town, I decided to hold off, as the rain thought otherwise. I hadn’t mentioned it yet, but my hotel was over 3 miles from the Cesenatico train station – so when I mention that I had a long walk earlier, I had a LONG WALK! My saving grace for the blog tour was a blogging couple from Rome, and without them, I would have had to either skip most of the blog tour happenings or arrive under the day’s rainfall. Thankfully they drove from Rome to the town – if they’re reading this: I really appreciate your help that weekend!
The blog tour had us all scheduled for a personal tour through the Cesenatico Marine museum, followed by dinner as a group. If you read much of my work, you probably know that I thoroughly despise touring museums and cathedrals – not because they’re not beautiful or interesting, but because once you’ve visited so many, they all begin to look the same, and my eyes blur over and my brain turns off. If you were to ask the other bloggers on the tour, they might have caught me wandering a bit away from the pack during the museum tour, but I took my time to make peace with my anti-museum realizations through my recent travels. I walked around aimlessly reading snippets and taking photos, and from time to time I would listen in on the guide. I do have to admit, even though it was one of the smaller museums I’ve visited, it was jam-packed with some interesting information and history – but truly the life-size boats that were displayed at centerpiece stole the show. After the tour, we met in a presentation room with a projector, and I feared with every cell in my body that I was back in school again, but instead we were pleasantly surprised by the mayor of the town. He was younger-than-expected, but enthusiastic about us all being there, experiencing his town.
The blog tour had us all scheduled for a personal tour through the Cesenatico Marine museum, followed by dinner as a group. If you read much of my work, you probably know that I thoroughly despise touring museums and cathedrals – not because they’re not beautiful or interesting, but because once you’ve visited so many, they all begin to look the same, and my eyes blur over and my brain turns off. If you were to ask the other bloggers on the tour, they might have caught me wandering a bit away from the pack during the museum tour, but I took my time to make peace with my anti-museum realizations through my recent travels. I walked around aimlessly reading snippets and taking photos, and from time to time I would listen in on the guide. I do have to admit, even though it was one of the smaller museums I’ve visited, it was jam-packed with some interesting information and history – but truly the life-size boats that were displayed at centerpiece stole the show. After the tour, we met in a presentation room with a projector, and I feared with every cell in my body that I was back in school again, but instead we were pleasantly surprised by the mayor of the town. He was younger-than-expected, but enthusiastic about us all being there, experiencing his town.
I thought the tour had ended, but instead our guide waved us out the door and onto the street, where she walked us through the canal and neighboring streets, explaining various tidbits of history and other interesting facts. It was a chilly, rainy and gray day in Italy and my clothes were drenched. Since I was backpacking for the summer, I only packed summer-related clothes, so once the tour ended, I decided to forego the night out and head back to my hotel to warm up. I’d be lying if I denied that a large part of me was super excited for another massive meal and bottle of wine at the Elisabetta. I showered and put on warm, dry clothes and set off downstairs, where I sat at my readied dinner table. My dinner was like a perfect duplication of the night before, but with all different dishes. I began making it my aim to try and finish each and every drop of the wine, each night, along with my food – so of course, I was happy and I passed out immediately when my body hit the bed.
For the last day of the blog tour, we all had to ride early and take out one of the traditional antique boats of Cesenatico – it was an close replication of the original boats that were featured in the museum. The Adratic was a bit rough, but I wanted to act like I was an old seafaring fisherman, so I stood and walked around a bit on the boat. The only way that you didn’t fly off the boat and into the water, when the waves hit, was to grab ahold of anything you could find. Typically, I tried to stay ahold of the ropes of the sail – and we were all lucky enough that no one fell in – even though that would have been epic! We had an hour to wander and check out more of the surrounding areas around the canal strip before lunchtime. Most of the group split up into their own mini-groups and set off in different directions. My group checked out a little cafe and peeked into the various shops with curious eyes, until it was time to meet up behind the museum.
For the last day of the blog tour, we all had to ride early and take out one of the traditional antique boats of Cesenatico – it was an close replication of the original boats that were featured in the museum. The Adratic was a bit rough, but I wanted to act like I was an old seafaring fisherman, so I stood and walked around a bit on the boat. The only way that you didn’t fly off the boat and into the water, when the waves hit, was to grab ahold of anything you could find. Typically, I tried to stay ahold of the ropes of the sail – and we were all lucky enough that no one fell in – even though that would have been epic! We had an hour to wander and check out more of the surrounding areas around the canal strip before lunchtime. Most of the group split up into their own mini-groups and set off in different directions. My group checked out a little cafe and peeked into the various shops with curious eyes, until it was time to meet up behind the museum.
There was a big meeting tent setup with a large grill and crew hard at work at the far edge of the tent, where they were cooking up some delicious goodness. They made a local rice dish and bread, with fresh-caught grilled sardines. I have to be honest and say that before the meal, I had never had sardines before, but my, oh my, it was so good that I ate so much, making myself near sick from overeating. I’m a somewhat picky eater (unfortunately), but along my recent travels I’ve been trying hard to attempt everything I can, in hopes of expanding my range – however, I must admit that I said F@#% NO to eating a sheep's head in Morocco. I mean, there’s a reason why I don’t write a food blog, you know!
All in all, it was a very pleasant experience for my first blog tour, and I hope that the small sea village of Cesenatico benefits from having all of us there. Because from all of their fantastic hospitality, they only deserve wonderful things from here on out – plus, the town is no doubt an interesting stop. I hope to visit again and to spend some more time on the beach next time out. A quick shout out to the organizers at Cesenatico Bella Vita: Thank you very much for inviting me and doing everything you did to make the tour a real success! Also, to all the fellow bloggers I met on the tour: You guys are all awesome! It was a true pleasure to spend time with you – we will meet again, whether it’s virtually or along another tour!
DISCLOSURE: The blog tour paid for my travel, meals and hotel stay. However, this post is written by me and are 100% of my own opinion.
More travel updates coming soon! Next update from San Marino & Verona, Italy.
Other travel updates:
Travel update I – Barcelona, Spain
Travel update II – Madrid, Spain
Travel update III – Granada, Spain
Travel update IV – Ronda & Sevilla, Spain
Travel update V – Marrakech, Morocco
Travel update VI – Marseille & Nice, France
Travel update VII – Monaco & Florence, Italy
All in all, it was a very pleasant experience for my first blog tour, and I hope that the small sea village of Cesenatico benefits from having all of us there. Because from all of their fantastic hospitality, they only deserve wonderful things from here on out – plus, the town is no doubt an interesting stop. I hope to visit again and to spend some more time on the beach next time out. A quick shout out to the organizers at Cesenatico Bella Vita: Thank you very much for inviting me and doing everything you did to make the tour a real success! Also, to all the fellow bloggers I met on the tour: You guys are all awesome! It was a true pleasure to spend time with you – we will meet again, whether it’s virtually or along another tour!
DISCLOSURE: The blog tour paid for my travel, meals and hotel stay. However, this post is written by me and are 100% of my own opinion.
More travel updates coming soon! Next update from San Marino & Verona, Italy.
Other travel updates:
Travel update I – Barcelona, Spain
Travel update II – Madrid, Spain
Travel update III – Granada, Spain
Travel update IV – Ronda & Sevilla, Spain
Travel update V – Marrakech, Morocco
Travel update VI – Marseille & Nice, France
Travel update VII – Monaco & Florence, Italy
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