Dear Eliza, 127 Months Old

We wrapped up our big trip to Italy and Greece! Somehow, we’re adjusting to our home time zone just fine and avoiding jet lag. That said, we all woke up at 5 a.m. this morning, so we’re still slightly off tempo.

I left off your brother’s letter with the highlights from Rome, so I’ll pick up yours with the rest of the trip.

I was most excited to visit Naples, where your Bisnonno and Bisnonna are from, though I approached it with a little hesitation. The city is notoriously loud, dense, and dirty — an acquired taste. When Uncle Sergio and Riley visited last year, their experience was “just OK,” and Riley vowed not to return anytime soon.

Our visit, however, ended up being truly wonderful. We stayed in Chiaia, west of the city center in a more upscale part of town. Our Airbnb was a charming top-floor apartment with a jaw-dropping terrace offering 180-degree views of the city and the Bay of Naples. We walked downhill across an unkempt greenbelt to Mappatella Beach. The beach itself wasn’t especially clean — there was quite a bit of litter — but the sun was out and so were the people. We weren’t among tourists; we were surrounded by Napolitani.

I spent much of our beach time scanning Google Maps for top pizza recommendations. We were in the city where pizza was born, which somehow raised the stakes for every trattoria decision. We ended up at a small local restaurant near our apartment that served a great margherita pizza and traditional pasta e fagioli. Yum. What we didn’t know at the time was that the restaurant directly across the street would serve the best meal we had on the entire trip. More on that later.

The next day, we explored the city, visiting the famous and incredibly busy Quartieri Spagnoli (Spanish Quarter) and Centro Storico (Historic Center). I had visited these places nearly 20 years ago while backpacking solo through Europe. I remembered an unreal energy pulsing through the city from early evening deep into the late-night hours. I also remembered the city being fairly dirty — especially the sidewalks. I stepped in dog poop back then. Hard to forget that.

This time, Naples seemed much cleaner. It was still rough around the edges compared to most major European cities, but impressive considering the density — nearly 20,000 people living within a single square mile.

Fortunately, Zio Vince and Aunt Carla happened to be in Naples at the same time, wrapping up one of their guided tours through Rome, Naples, and Sorrento. Vince has stayed closely connected with our extended family and arranged time for us to meet relatives from both the Perrotta (Bisnonna) and Mottola (Bisnonno) sides of the family.

I was a little nervous before our first family gathering because of the language barrier, but mostly excited to meet the Perrotta side. My second cousin Alessandro met us and brought us to the home of his mother, Patrizia — Nonno’s cousin — for a home-cooked meal. We also met her husband, Agostino; their daughter and my second cousin, Ornella, along with her husband Hugo, who was especially talkative and reminded me a lot of Sergio personality-wise; Alessandro’s wife, Isabella; and Nonno’s other cousins, Giuliana and Rino.

You and Matteo had a blast playing with Dario, Ornella and Hugo’s toddler, and with Matilde, Alessandro and Isabella’s new daughter. As you know, Matilde was almost your name too. We just couldn’t get over how Americans would probably call you “Matilda,” so Eliza it was. You spent much of the evening drawing portraits of everyone, which became a huge hit.

Zio Vince helped translate much of the conversation, which wandered through politics and economics in the United States. Probably boring to you, but fascinating to me — especially how curious and interconnected Italians feel with the U.S.

The food was incredible: fried chicken, eggplant, artichokes, pickled vegetables, fresh mozzarella, and traditional savory baked dishes. Courses came out one after another, separated by long stretches of conversation, making dinner last for hours. Your mom eventually noticed that you and Matteo were practically falling asleep at the table, and it still took another hour for us to leave.

The next day, we toured Pompeii. Before the tour even started, the trip leader messaged me because she was curious about my last name — hers was Paola Mottola, the feminine version of my name! I joked that I had met my other half.

Pompeii was much larger than I anticipated — a vast and ancient city that truly demonstrated how advanced Roman civilization was. A good portion of our tour included the red-light district, complete with phallic imagery and explicit artwork. I didn’t expect to explain prostitution to you and Matteo while walking through Pompeii, but that’s exactly what happened. I was grateful we’d already had “the talk” a few months earlier because our guide’s commentary definitely got awkward at times.

After the tour, we stopped at one of Naples’ most famous pizzerias, Da Michele, where we demolished a few large pizzas.

After all that touring, we kept our final full day in Naples low-key. We returned to the beach, which was somehow cleaner this time, and later ate what may have been the best meal of the trip at Gastronomica Arfé. Oh Lord. The pasta and presentation were truly beautiful. I remember looking up at the blue sky and thanking God for that meal. I discovered a pasta called paccheri there that may have changed my life.

Once we walked off lunch and I emotionally recovered from the experience, we met up with Zio Vince and Aunt Carla for one final family dinner. They introduced us to Nonno’s cousin Ida and her husband Ninni at Umberto, the restaurant where Nonno apparently spent a lot of time learning pizza-making and playing cards. Ida had light-colored eyes just like mine! Apparently I’m not the only one.

Ida was fairly quiet, but Ninni spoke good English. We talked about boating, politics, and economics once again.

This is already a long letter, but it was a long trip, and I still have to write about Crete.

I somehow hadn’t been back to the island in 20 years, since I first visited Zia Pam there with my parents and siblings. That trip happened just a couple of years before I met your mom, and I even included some photos from Greece in my old Match.com profile. The story goes that your mom saw those photos and assumed she’d get to visit Greece with me early in our relationship. She only had to wait 17 years and have two children first for that trip to finally happen. Thanks for your patience, Amanda!

We spent the first few nights north of Heraklion, where Zia Pam lives, in a small beach community called Agia Pelagia. After all the walking we did in Italy, I wanted us to slow down and enjoy some time by the water. The spot was perfect. Our apartment sat above a family restaurant along a strip of little places to eat and drink. The beach was small but incredibly clean, with crystal-clear water and a shallow shelf you could walk far out on. You and Matteo immediately jumped into the water while your mom and I alternated between swimming and sunbathing.

Eventually, we caught up with Pam and her husband Emmanuel at their home — the same place where I stayed two decades ago in the chalet overlooking the olive orchard. We also reunited with the group we’d spend the remainder of the trip with: Sergio, Riley, Riley’s parents Ken and Holly, and Sergio’s childhood friend Mark and his wife Maura, who live in Cyprus.

After visiting Pam’s house, we went out for gyros and walked around downtown Heraklion, which was much nicer than I remembered, with tiled promenades, charming restaurants, and even larger retailers like Zara.

We spent the next day at the beach before meeting the group again for a trip to Avdou, a small mountain town, and the major event of the trip: Sergio and Riley’s engagement.

This had been in the works for months, as these things usually are. Greece is an especially meaningful place for Uncle Sergio, so I knew the proposal mattered a lot to him. Riley’s brain tumor and surgery — deserving of their own story entirely — nearly derailed the whole trip, but thankfully she recovered well and everything went according to plan.

Sergio proposed at a beautiful restaurant, Riley was completely surprised, and we all got to witness the special moment together. Thankfully, I didn’t ruin the real-time photos.

You spent much of the remainder of the trip designing wedding invitations for them in your signature drawing style on your iPad.

The next morning, we left for Maza, a tiny village in western Crete where I had booked a villa for the rest of our stay. Before leaving Heraklion, we made one final stop at a large market to stock up on produce and meet up with Sergio, Riley, Mark, and Maura before heading west.

The drive was stunning and mountainous. Crete is surprisingly rugged, with dramatic hillsides and coastline. I was especially surprised to see snow on some of the mountaintops.

The villa ended up being my big Airbnb gamble of the trip, and thankfully it paid off. The place was spacious, clean, and modern, complete with a hot tub, pool, and a PS5 that your brother thoroughly enjoyed — and that you eventually started playing too by the end of the trip.

Maza itself had only one restaurant, but we ate there twice because the food was incredible. Nearby were two lovely off-the-beaten-path towns: Georgioupoli, where we spent most of our time, and Vryses.

Georgioupoli will live on in family lore for two reasons. The first was its beautiful chapel sitting at the end of a long breakwater. We took some epic family photos there that I’m sure will eventually be framed in our home.

The second reason was what we now call “The Great Pokémon Scheme.”

We bought some Pokémon cards for your brother at a small supermarket for one euro a pack, and somehow he immediately pulled cards supposedly worth several hundred dollars. Convinced we had stumbled onto an incredible treasure trove, we kept buying more packs that continued producing “valuable” cards.

When Sergio and Riley arrived at the villa, we proudly told them about our incredible luck and rationalized that the cards must have remained untouched because the village was so remote. Sergio went back to the store the next day and cleaned out the remaining packs.

All in, we spent maybe 30 euros — not exactly life-changing money — but then Riley started questioning whether the cards were even real. That got me thinking about the obviously fake Gucci and Prada bags I’d noticed in the back of the store during our first visit.

We had been completely bamboozled.

Thankfully, everyone found it hilarious, and Matteo was still thrilled to have a giant stack of Pokémon cards regardless.

Did I mention the villa pool? Spectacular. We spent hours there and even hosted a large family dinner one evening for everyone in our group. Uncle Sergio and I visited a nearby butcher shop and picked out beautiful cuts of meat to grill.

While we were preparing dinner, a neighborhood cat wandered over and stole a chicken leg. We weren’t surprised because stray cats are everywhere in Greece and often linger around outdoor restaurants hoping for scraps. This cat, however, was special.

Maura noticed that she looked pregnant, which turned out to be true. She was incredibly affectionate, constantly kneading her paws and begging for food, pets, or both. You named her Lila, and over the last few days of the trip she essentially became our outdoor housecat.

We spent those final days in Greece exploring nearby villages and relaxing by the pool. One day, we drove all the way to Chania, the largest city in western Crete, and eventually to Falasarna, one of the island’s most famous beaches.

Unfortunately, strong winds followed us throughout much of the trip, so we only stayed at Falasarna for about an hour and didn’t spend as much beach time overall as I originally imagined. Surprisingly, I didn’t mind. There was already so much to see and explore.

We practically had to peel you away from Lila on our last day at the villa. You cried and cried.

That final morning, your mom and I woke up early to finish packing and noticed Lila asleep outside on a chair. But by the time you woke up, she had disappeared, and you became so worried you wouldn’t get to say goodbye.

You were incredibly sweet about it, though perhaps a little irrationally emotional too.

Thankfully, Lila returned to the house shortly before we left, and you felt much better seeing her one last time.

Our two-and-a-half-week adventure ended back in Rome for one final night before our return flight home through Reykjavik. We stayed in an apartment in Fiumicino, a small fishing village near the airport, and spent our final morning strolling along the marina and enjoying one last cornetto breakfast.

You and Matteo were amazing on this trip. We pushed you hard — walking 10- to 12-mile days, constantly relocating, hopping on planes every few days, and doing plenty of “adult” activities at museums, historical sites, and fancy restaurants.

Through all of it, you kept a positive attitude. You showed genuine curiosity about the places we visited, and whenever things became overwhelming, you disappeared into books, drawing, or your imagination for a little while.

I’m deeply thankful for these family trips because they seem to bring out the very best in us.

Love,
Dad