Country of classical beauty
Why go on holiday to Italy?
Italy has everything: the splendour of historic cities such as Rome, Venice and Florence, the ancient ruins of Pompeii, the sunny resorts of the Venetian Riviera and even the mega-rave Rimini extravaganza.
There are beautiful islands ranging from the expensively luxurious such as Capri, to the tiny southern islands where cars are banned.
Almost everywhere you visit in Italy is heartbreakingly lovely, almost everything you eat delicious and almost everything you drink very, very good.
How much does it cost?
There are all types of holiday here but as a rough guide, a two-week family holiday for four at the Lido di Jesolo on the Venetian Rivera in September will cost £1,100 for half-board. A short city break to Venice for four days in May costs from £350 per person. Flights to Milan or Bologna can cost from £120 return and to Rome from £150 if you shop around.
When should I go?
In the low season from April to June and September/October the weather is good, prices are lower and there are fewer tourists.
Midwinter can be charming - snow on the hills of the north, milder in the south, but opening hours change, so check you will be able to see what you're going there for. Prices soar with the temperatures in July/August and the country swarms with tourists.
What should I do when I'm there?
Rome, Florence and Venice offer their own unique experience of fabulous shopping, great food, beautiful architecture and fantastic art collections. Milan has great shopping in wonderful arcades.
For winter visits the Italian Alps boast excellent ski resorts, but the best are the Cortina d'Ampezzo in the Veneto region and the San Martino di Casatrozza in Trentino. Accommodation can be expensive but hiring ski equipment is cheap.
Go to the Lakes - Garda, Maggiore and Como - for luxury and relaxation.
What about festivals?
Italy has international festivals of music, art and film. Venice hosts the Biennale, where countries from all over the world exhibit their living artists' work, a film festival and the famous Venice Carnival.
In Siena there is the yearly Palio, or horserace. The sight of the horses being sung to whilst being paraded after the race by their teams is incredibly moving. Every year Verona hosts an opera festival with performances in its Roman amphitheatre.
What is there for culture vultures?
Acres of frescoes painted in the Renaissance and beloved ever since. Many of the most famous are in churches, monasteries or civic buildings in quite small northern towns.
Hire a car or take a coach/train excursion to: San Gimigiano, Assisi, Lucca, Spoleto, Pienza or Arezzo. See Bologna for the cathedral square and the original of Foucault's pendulum on the cathedral floor as well as some of the best delis in the world.
In Sicily, Palermo is jam-packed with rococo glories, churches and palazzos - built during the reign of the Bourbon kings.
What about nature in all its glory?
The lakes are a must - see Maggiore wreathed in mist each morning then sparkling through the day, surrounding the beautiful Borromean Islands. Sardinia has beaches, mountains and rivers running through dramatic gorges.
The coast around Sorrento is justly famous for its delicate beauty and for the Blue Grotto - while there take a trip to Vesuvius. In Sicily see Mount Etna, the biggest and most active European volcano, as well as a stunning coastline.
Throughout Tuscany and Umbria the countryside is unbelievably pretty; everywhere you look tall cypress trees line undulating hill-roads to olive groves and vineyards. Unmissable.
Where's good for nightlife?
Italians are not late-night partygoers in the manner of the Greeks or the Spanish, but most bars are open until 2am. Most Italians prefer a relaxing chat and drink to raving.
Bars often stock board games to play and people like to walk through the piazzas to see and be seen - that's why they spend so much time looking so good. Piazzas in summer can be taken over by young, beautiful people chatting and eyeing each other up.
Cities also have nightclubs - the scene is hot in Rome, Milan and Turin. Bologna is a big student town so expect some good one-off clubs - look at a local guide for listings. Rimini is famed for its huge raves.
What's the food like?
You will be familiar with some dishes but are unlikely to taste pasta, pizza, tomatoes and basil as good anywhere else. In the north there are bean soups and meat specialities such as cinghale (wild boar), in the coastal regions squid, fish and octopus.
Keep an eye out for local dishes - it's worth it. Rucola leaf (rocket) is a regular spicy addition to panini and salads. Wine is cheap and good - stick to local varieties to get the best deal.
Spirits include grappa and strong brandies. Liqueurs include Amaretto, strega and very sweet, flavoured vodkas.
What should I buy?
Italy is synonymous with fashion. Italians say Milan has the best clothes, Rome the best shoes and Florence the best choice.
If you want good-quality leather goods, seek out the bargains at the Piazza del Mercato Centrale in Florence or the Viale Gabriele d'Annunzio in Milan. Silk scarves and ties are good value, designer shops are cheaper than in the UK.
Other than luxury goods, bring back olive oil, truffle oil, truffles, dried mushrooms (especially the delicious funghi porcini), sizeable blocks of parmigiano or pecorino for foodie friends, wine, fig jam, biscotti and sundried tomatoes.
Also good value are embroidered tablecloths, napkins and tea towels.
What is there for children to do?
Italians really do love kids. From the smallest baby upward, all are welcome in restaurants and elsewhere. Taking a baby round Italy can be a surprisingly rewarding trip, as people really do take time to be nice.
Older kids will marvel at the archaeological sites of Pompeii, and the Colosseum and the Forum in Rome. Have a day out at Gardaland, the amusement park near Lago di Garda in Lombardia.
If you're visiting the south, take the family to the ancient Greek temples in Sicily.
Tourist office
Italian State Tourist Board, 1 Princes Street, London W1R 8AY. Tel. 020 7408 1254. Brochure line: 09001 600 280 (calls cost 60p per minute).
Italy
Did you know?
Until unification in 1870, only 5% of the population spoke Italian.
Language
Italian
Visas
None required for UK citizens.
Getting there
Flights go from most major UK airports to Milan, the capital Rome, Florence, Pisa, Bologna, Venice, Catania and Cagliari. Prices vary greatly, and it may be best to get a flight to Pisa and then take a one hour train journey into Florence rather than paying a premium to fly to Florence. Likewise it may be cheaper to fly to Bologna and take a train to Venice. It all depends on your time and money.
Flying time from London
About two and a half hours to northern Italy; four hours to the south.
Getting around
Travelling by train is simple and cheap; they run on time from 1930s Deco-style stations but can call at every stop en route (don't be fooled by the world 'direct'). Make sure you get the fast train if you don't want to do this. Internal flights are an option if you're going from the North to Sicily. Ferries can take you to Elba and the other islands from various points on the mainland. Italian drivers are notorious - be prepared, and be careful of mopeds when driving or walking. All major cities have good transport systems.
Currency
The Euro.
Costs
Prices vary enormously around the country but as a rough approximation: litre of petrol 65p; small beer £2.50; roll of film £2.50-£3; moderate restaurant meal £15.50; four-mile taxi ride £9.50.
Weather
April-June and September-October are the best times to go: the weather is good, prices are low and there are fewer tourists. Late July and August are very hot (30C/86F, or higher in cities such as Rome), prices rise and Italy teems with holidaymakers. Most of the country goes on holiday in August, leaving the cities largely closed and the coast and mountains packed out.
Time difference
One hour ahead of GMT
International dialling code from the UK
00 39
Voltage
220V 50Hz, but some places still use the old 125V system - check with your hotel or landlord.
Opening hours
Shops open at 8am, shut at 1pm for a long lunch and then reopen at 3-4pm till 7-8pm. Banks open 8.30am-1.30pm and 2.45pm-4.30pm Mon-Fri.
Health - Before you go
No vaccinations needed. The UK has a reciprocal agreement with Italy regarding healthcare. To take advantage of this you will need to get an EHIC form from any UK post office and make sure you understand how to access this health care when away.
Health - When you are there
A new law states that all foreigners have the same right as Italians to emergency health care. That, plus your E111 form, gives you good access to care. Take the E111 form to the local Unita Sanitaria Locale (USL) office and they will give you the information you need. However, many Italian public hospitals are underfunded, so you may prefer to take out travel insurance so you can use a private clinic.
Warnings
Pickpockets and bag-snatchers are the main problems for travellers. Keep your valuables in a money belt. In the south, women may be harassed if they wear skimpy clothing. Wearing a bikini in the streets near the beaches of Venezia Lido will get you fined.
Emergency
Police - Tel 113. British Embassy in Rome: Via XX Settembre 80a. Tel: 06 482 54 41.
Customs
Siestas are the norm so expect shops to shut between 1pm-4pm. There are strict dress codes for places of worship all over Italy, so be as considerate as possible. People look at each other a lot more than they do in the UK, both men and women. This is normal - Italians take a lot of trouble to look good, they expect it from others and like to admire the results of all that grooming. Men will flirt: be polite. If they're hassling you, be firm, otherwise enjoy it.
Pets
Italy is a qualifying country for the Pet Travel Scheme but there are stringent requirements and documentation to fulfil prior to taking a pet on holiday. This can take some time to organise. Check with your vet.
Tipping
You are not expected to tip on top of restaurant charges or taxi fares. Restaurants usually have a cover charge that includes bread, olive oil and water.
Tourist office
Italian State Tourist Board: 1 Princes St, London W1R 8AY. Tel: 020 7408 1254. Brochure line: 09001 600 280 (calls cost 60p per minute).
Reviews for : Italy
Where do writers get their ideas? Novelists can be vague about what sparks the beginnings of a book - but Daphne du Maurier knew exactly what inspired her finest short story.
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When my wife and I first went to Venice together, in January 1990, the city took something of a back seat to our brand new relationship. The five days we spent at the Gritti Palace Hotel come back to me now only as disconnected flashes.
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For me, it was love at first sight. In the summer of 1946 I was 16 years old and we were staying at my parents' favourite hotel, a ravishing little 15th century building on the very edge of Lake Garda. The proprietor was a drunken old Irishman whom my parents loved; despite the hotel's considerable discomfort, they went every peacetime summer for a quarter of a century.
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First, the vital statistics. He was 6ft 1in, a giant among men in 18th-century Venice. And as he tells it in his memoirs, he was a giant in other respects, too . . .
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Always respect Venice and it will respect you. The people are kind and friendly, and will help you in every way, but do respect their lifestyle.
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Every couple of months, visitors to Venice are shocked by a loud siren wailing over the city. Rather than look up to the sky, though, this is a warning to look down, as it announces the arrival of 'Acqua Alta', the high tide.
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We married late in the summer, and decided on the spur of the moment that of all the places in the world we had been to, there was nowhere we would rather be alone together than Venice in the autumn.
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The oddest things make you realise you're getting older. There comes a grey morning, usually in January or February, when suddenly you realise that the era of the family holiday is probably over.
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Pop! Pop! Pop! I have never heard Bollinger being uncorked at such a rate. It was like an episode of Absolutely Fabulous.
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See Venice and sing! And what better way to experience the magical vibes of this historic city than to sing your heart out to music by Venice's most celebrated son, Antonio Vivaldi.
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Nothing had prepared me for the beauty of Venice. However much you read about it, being there is just amazing.
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You've seen them on holiday in Italy or France, those healthy-looking individuals who bound into the restaurant as you stoke up after a hard day by the pool.
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Bang on Tuscany's doorstep, Umbria benefits from living in the shadow of its more famous neighbour. It's cheaper, many believe just as pretty, and certainly less crowded. While most tourists focus on Florence and Siena, the Tuscan hills and Chianti wine, Umbria is less troubled by visitors.
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The moment I heard the words I knew I had walked into a trap. We were midway through our annual negotiations over holiday destinations and the three children were determined to go to Italy.
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When you book a self-catering property, it is often a triumph of hope over experience. A hard-bitten journalist, especially, should be sceptical. I realised this when we stalled our car on the vertiginously rising farm track deep in the heart of the Chianti countryside. The light was failing fast, our daughters, Flora, ten, and Alice, seven, were crying and frightened on the back seat and we had no idea where we were going to spend the night.
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Nothing comes close to the euphoria you feel when you first see your very own yacht, although this was not strictly ours, I suppose. Our group - myself and five youngsters - had chartered the 38-footer with three double cabins and two bathrooms or 'heads' as they are called in nautical parlance. It also had a CD player and all the latest navigational aids and was to be our home for a week.
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Fifty years ago, Forte dei Marmi was a summer playground for the international set, the place where Edith Piaf and Charles Aznavour came to live the real-life Dolce Vita.
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A heady mixture of superb Renaissance cities, beautiful rolling hillsides clad with vines, medieval castles and spectacular hill towns - these are the charms of Tuscany, according to the tourist information blurb.
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Tuscany, as everyone knows, is the middle-classes' Benidorm, Umbria the up-market Costa del Sol. On sunny afternoons in Spoleto or Siena, you'd be hard-pressed to spot an Italian among milling Nigels and Lucindas, guidebooks in hand, peering up at Romanesque vaulted porches or talking about dining at the Braggs's villa tonight.
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The usual image of a holiday in Tuscany is a stylish, secluded villa set in the picture-postcard scenery of the Italian hills.
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British people took more than 42 million trips into Europe last year but only about 300,000 travelled farther than Paris or Brussels by train. We seem to have lost our appetite for the railways.
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'Never stop at the facade,' Laura, my guide in Turin, told me. Why not, I wondered, surveying with pleasure the baroque harmonies of Piazza San Carlo? But Laura is right. Like the hazelnuts that go into its famous Gianduiotti chocolates, this city has a shell that's worth cracking.
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Today in Britain we are facing a rising tide of fashionable, frothy coffee. Cappuccino has become a mass marketing phenomenon.
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When it comes to travel, serendipity - the faculty of making happy discoveries by accident - has much to recommend itself.
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Most passengers arriving at Treviso, the pretty Italian town just half an hour north of Venice, regard the place as little more than Venice's second airport. Somewhere rather inconveniently far from the desired destination, but near enough, given that you can get cheap flights here, to warrant the additional bus journey.
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Where in Italy, beginning with T, do you find glorious scenery, ancient piazzas and palazzos, perfect pasta and some of the country's best wines? No, not Tuscany, but the province of Trentino, a huge butterfly shape pinned like a brooch to the north of Lake Garda. The River Adige runs through it en route to Verona, meandering across valley floors fleeced with vineyards and apple orchards, while all around rise the foothills of the Dolomites.
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Guidebooks describe the walk along the famously lovely stretch of the Ligurian coastline in North-West Italy known as the Cinque Terre as 'easy'. Unless you are a mountain goat, however, this is a bit misleading.
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For the second time that morning, I slipped on the muddy path, landed on my bottom and had to grab a nearby branch to stop myself taking off down the steep incline.
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'You must go now,' said Gioacchino, the captain of our chartered yacht, tapping his watch and smiling his goofy smile. 'Five o'clock, yes? Your guide is waiting for you.'
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My husband and I stayed in the Carlton Hotel in Sorrento in March. Sorrento is an excellent place to visit with so much to see and do. The Amalfi coast has breathtaking scenery and, of course, Pompeii and Herculaneum are fascinating.
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It was dark when we reached our hotel, so in the morning we were stunned when we threw open our wooden shutters and stepped out onto a balcony with a stupendous view of the Bay of Naples, a hazy Mount Vesuvius in the distance.
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Describing the Palio as a horse race is a bit like saying the World Cup is just a game of football.
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Mid-afternoon in Sicily. The sun beats down; the only sound is of whirring cicadas. The tiny station of Enna is deserted for the siesta. In the bar a stubbled barman pours espresso, and a three-legged dog hops across to make my acquaintance.
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Sicilians consider themselves to be a different sort of Italian, and we all know what that means. Sicily, for instance, attracts a distinctly different type of tourist from the rest of Italy.
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When we arrived at Bar Eden in the central square of Forza d'Agro, high in the eastern Sicilian hills, it was eerily quiet. Barely a soul stirred in the mid-afternoon heat.
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After five years of filming the House Doctor television series in Britain, I understand why people here are forever going on holiday.
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As a lad of six or seven 30-odd years ago, I was the proud owner of a big red stamp album.
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Turning out a cupboard recently, I came across an old diary, an account I'd written of falling in love with Rome. Just 19, I had escaped for a week from a grim university gap-year job. After the rigours of teaching in Switzerland, arriving in Rome was like falling into a champagne bubble bath.
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He was about 6ft 2in, olive skin, dark, slicked-back hair, chiselled features. The tan was perfect, and he wore a swagger as insolent as his perfectly cut denim outfit.
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We were 50 feet beneath the earth in catacombs off the Appian Way, looking at a small stone coffin a few feet away in the gloom.
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Rome is like a big cake with all its mouth-watering layers of history. The Colosseum, where the real gladiators slogged it out, is awesome and the Forum is fascinating. We loved the spooky catacombs, too.
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As we stagger, dripping, into Piazza Navona, it is dusk and the black cobbles look damp with perspiration. The ancient buildings, their facades washed in wonderful shades of orange, ochre and red, appear to be sagging in the heat.
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To be perfectly frank, I hadn't the foggiest idea where Ravello was when I took off for a weekend to Naples, picked up a rented car and headed south down the coast. And fog was certainly the last thing I expected.
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We are sitting at a large wooden table on a stone jetty in Atrani, a small fishing village on the Amalfi coast, savouring the first real day of our Italian holiday.
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People often ask me whether, as a literary agent, I am influenced in my assessment of a manuscript by the mood I am in or by the circumstances in which I find myself while reading it.
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From where Virginia Cinque stood that sunny day in 1944, on a rocky road high above the Gulf of Salerno, all she could see from the Bay of Naples in the north to the Cilento hills in the south were warships. Hundreds of them.
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No-frills airlines Ryanair and Easy-Jet have suffered a spate of complaints lately, but at least they are helping to bring the fares down.
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Ask any Italian about the island of Ponza and he'll say 'che bella, che bellissima' - how beautiful, how very beautiful! But he's unlikely to have been there.
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The Leaning Tower of Pisa wins my vote as the perfect tourist attraction.
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For those who think they know Italy, Palermo comes as something of a shock. The capital of Sicily, the Mediterranean island at the foot of the country, it's a brash city with an exuberant reputation. It's noisier, earthier and livelier than the cities of the Italian north, with a cultural mix that blends elements from an Arab, Norman and Spanish past.
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ESSENTIAL INFORMATION
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Think northern Italy, then think art and architecture and two names leap to mind: Venice and Florence. Prime destinations for short breaks - but they are not the whole story.
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As usual, we wanted to do everything at once. We wanted to see Pompeii, and Naples, and spend some time on the stunning Amalfi peninsula with its steep wooded mountains and painted cliff-edge towns falling down to the sea.
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Nine o'clock on a Wednesday night, and there I was on the street with a horde of Neapolitans patiently holding numbered tickets.
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How far will a woman travel to meet a man? The local wine bar? Singles' night at Safeway?
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When I was 14 I made my parents take a massive detour on the drive to our campsite in the South of France. The family's Morris Traveller was forced across the Alps to Italy so I could make a pilgrimage to Milan.
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On the back of my travel pass, in tiny English print, came the rather strange warning: 'Valid for 24 hours after the obliteration.'
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Milan, Europe's fashion capital, is also home to one of the world's most celebrated artistic works, Leonardo da Vinci's hugely influential fresco The Last Supper. As for the rest of the city - Renaissance art and churches, an eye-catching cathedral and shopping (or at least window-shopping) are beyond compare. The flight from London lasts just two hours, so a couple of nights gives time to see the sights.
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A few weeks ago I bought some high-fashion shoes. When I got them home, I looked at the chunky, wedge shape and the squared-off toes and realised they were ridiculous. So I flung them to the back of my wardrobe and forgot about them.
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If you're a fan of Italian culture, history and architecture, you'd be very disappointed in the village of Maranello. There are no crumbling palaces, Renaissance churches or museums crammed with art. There isn't even a colour-washed castle on a hilltop surrounded by vineyards. It must be Italy's least likely tourist attraction.
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At Mandas one does nothing. At Mandas one goes to bed when it is dark, like a chicken. At Mandas one walks down the road like a pig that is going nowhere. Or so one desperately disgruntled resident told the writer D. H. Lawrence back in the Twenties. Little has changed.
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Lucca is the perfect place for a short break - even when it's pouring. 'Dogs and cats it is raining,' said the man behind the desk at the Hotel Ilaria. 'This is how you say it in England, yes?'
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Approaching the old Tuscan city of Lucca the first thing you notice is the walls. It is impossible not to notice them. From whichever direction you are coming, this cliff of age-darkened red brick looms up before you, about 40ft tall, running unbroken for nearly three miles around the city.
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Oh no,' I thought. 'Not Andrew Lloyd Webber.' I was in Lucca, jewel in the crown of Tuscany and one of the loveliest towns in all Italy, when his music stole up on me like a thief in the night.
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The shrine to Italy's greatest composer is not in the great cultural centres of Florence, Venice or Rome, but in an ordinary-looking block of flats in Lucca, a smallish city that is about 45 minutes by train from Pisa.
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For skiing virgins Italy's Cavalese proves a great place to start.
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I returned from a week's holiday in Livigno on 31st March. My requirements: safe, supervised skiing for my 11-year-old daughter and a relaxing time in the sun and in cafes with a book for me. I chose the Hotel Valandrea because it sounded quiet. It was: no entertainment, no bar, no restaurant, no thumping disco - just peace! The hotel was built recently and to a high quality. With eight rooms to let, it overlooked three of the ski lifts and it was possible to ski right back to the hotel.
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Sometimes, when Onassis had been especially cruel to Maria Callas, ordering her to go back to her cabin on the yacht Christina and change her dress just as she had sat down to dinner, claiming he didn't like the colour but actually because he was in that kind of dark mood, she would retreat to her cool villa to try to reclaim her pride.
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Malcesine on Lake Garda was perfect for a holiday with my elderly mum, who has trouble walking too far. After pottering around this charming little town and exploring its medieval castle, we took the cable car up Monte Baldo for a bird's-eye-view of the lake.
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Prince Charles, who knows a great garden when he sees one, realised when he saw La Mortella that he was in the presence of excellence.
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You can spot the violin makers in Cremona. The spiritual descendants of Amati and Stradivari wear jeans, have few possessions, a social conscience and live in old houses.
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'Bravo, Bravo!' cried the Roman waiter every time he passed our table. 'You eata your pasta, you getta strong muscles!' I paraphrase, but you get the idea.
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Jars of black truffles the shape of miniature grenades festoon the windows of every grocery store in Umbria, in central Italy.
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Which other country offers great food, a superb climate and amazing variety? We offer a personal guide to the very best of Italy
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The noise was as if a collection of dainty animals - Burmese cats, say - were simultaneously pulling their feet delicately out of a sea of mud.
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For the tired and cynical traveller from northern Europe, it can be all too much. Yet the energy and incessant vitality of Italy is what I most love about it.
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Back when the French were painting pictures of cattle on the walls of caves, people on the Italian peninsula were feasting on sumptuous meals washed down with superb wines.
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From the mail on Sunday
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All I had to do was solve the clues and I could win myself some swanky clothes at crazy knock-down prices. It was like a designer label treasure hunt.
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Sunshine, beautiful scenery, splendid art treasures and a rich historical past - Italy is a charmed land, which seems to have been stuffed full of good things like some giant Christmas stocking.
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There comes a time in every family holiday when we must put away childish things: buckets and spades, pneumatic Orcas and frisbees.
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When I was a schoolboy, the one thing which everybody knew about Genoa was that it was the birthplace of Christopher Columbus.
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At first glance, the sprawling Italian port of Genoa seems a jumbled, noisy place - and an odd choice for 2004's European Capital of Culture.
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The legend of a truly grand hotel is something that usually takes a lifetime to build up. Yet every so often, one of these pleasure palaces opens its doors and immediately there is the sensation of something special.
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At a cafe near Florence's Duomo, a couple at the next table were mulling over their breakneck Grand Tour of Italy as they scribbled messages on postcards. 'Rome?' mused the man: 'What did we see in Rome?' The Colosseum, I wondered silently; the Sistine Chapel, St Peter's, the Piazza Navona?
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When I first went to Florence as a child, the scrums in the Uffizi were so bad that I had to stand on tiptoe to see the naughty bits on Botticelli's Venus. The place was a zoo.
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Florence doesn't feature heavily in any hip city guide so it's easy to forget that it was once one of the most modern cities on earth.
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Skiing has never been more popular with good-value packages and neither age nor ability now a barrier.
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Can you believe there's a region of Italy only a few hours from Bologna and Florence where you can walk all day and not see more than six people?
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Sometimes the best holiday is one that unfolds at the last minute. My friend Kit and I decided on a rainy Thursday that by Saturday we had to be somewhere different. Somewhere quintessentially Mediterranean in flavour, where we could top up on sun and good living for five days.
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Mount Etna has been at it again. Plumes of smoke, fountains of red sparks and a slow-moving lava flow down its south flank have held the world's attention all week.
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What does the name Capri conjure up for you? Is it the sweet, homely face of Gracie Fields, seagull-voiced working-class heroine, who retired to the island after the war, sparing we baby-boomers a great deal of auditory grief?
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The Medieval hilltop village of Casperia offers an intimate insight into Italian history, overlooking a landscape marked out with olive groves, sweeping valleys and dark green woodland - all just 45-minutes (and less than £2.50) by train from Rome.
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My sister Kathy and I visited by boat from our base at Sorrento. From the ferry port we took the funicular up to Capri Town and had coffee in the attractive main square.
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The Stadio Renato Dall'Ara, Bologna, Italy; 3pm, one Sunday. The referee put the whistle to his lips to start the match with Vincenza. But we never heard his shrill blast. All known sound was drowned out by a very lifelike impression of Vesuvius, first exploding, then erupting.
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We are lying on the grass outside Stansted Airport in beautiful sunshine waiting for our flight to Naples.
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For skiing virgins Italy's Cavalese proves a great place to start.
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Given our obsession with football and our addiction to all things pasta-like and pizzery, it's surprising Britons don't spend more time in Italy where they treat all these things seriously.
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A seaside swim in the morning followed by an afternoon skiing in the mountains is just one of many options open to visitors to Abruzzo in Italy.
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Spa holidays might have become trendy recently but in some parts of the world they've been the way to unwind for centuries.
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