Why We Fell in Love with Civitavecchia: A Pre-Cruise Adventure
When my husband and I booked a Mediterranean cruise last July, we thought it sailed out of Rome, as advertised. We quickly discovered that Rome doesn’t have a cruise port. Civitavecchia is the closest cruise port city, about 40 miles northwest of Rome and one of the Mediterranean's busiest ports. It is its own comune in the Metropolitan City of Rome, not within the city of Rome itself. We promptly started researching this port city, preparing for our journey.
While researching, we heard the name pronounced many different ways, but the accurate pronunciation is chee-vee-tuh-veh-kee-uh. Civitavecchia translates to “Ancient Town,” and ancient is genuinely what it is. There are tombs there dating back to the 6th Century B.C.
As usual, we watched travel Vlogs, asked AI questions, researched things to do in Civitavecchia, and struggled to pronounce its name correctly - I still find myself incorrectly pronouncing it as si-vi-cha-vek-ee-uh.
Regardless of the semantics, we didn’t learn too much that made us excited to go there. So, in true J.S. Whaldo fashion, we decided to fly in two nights early for the cruise, take the train directly to Civitavecchia, and explore it ourselves. There had to be more to this town other than the famous Michelangelo Fort. We love Italy, so at the worst, we’d wander the streets, get lost, and discover new squares and piazzas as we found our way back to our hotel.
Getting There: Train Troubles & Taxi Tangles
We arrived in Rome late Friday morning and took the train from the airport to Civitavecchia. Using the Trenitalia app makes getting around Italy via train very easy. After a 45-minute ride, the train approached Civitavecchia, but my dear husband didn’t believe we had arrived. It looked very industrial, and he slowly disembarked, looking around confused. His bag was blocking me so I couldn’t get off, and the doors shut, leaving me on the train with my luggage. I started pushing buttons on the door, hoping I wouldn’t have to ride to the next town, and then wait for the next train back to Civitavecchia.
Luckily, the conductor noticed my husband frantically waving at me and opened the door. I immediately stepped out, waved my thanks to the conductor, and told my husband to follow me instead of me following him. My dear husband looked frazzled and unconvinced that we should have gotten off that train. As the train left, I pointed to a small sign on the landing that said Civitavecchia. Without further ado, I led him to the elevator to cross under the track into the train station. We had arrived.
Of course, during the summer of 2024, Europe had the hottest summer on record. It was like an oven blast when we stepped off that train. We took shelter in the train station while mapping our way to the hotel. It didn’t look too far on the map, but peeking out the window, we could see it was all cobblestone and uphill. In that heat, with two large pieces of luggage, neither of us wanted to walk it. We proceeded to go outside to snag a taxi ride. Taxis were nowhere to be seen. We could easily find the taxi stop and waiting area, but no taxis. The streets seemed eerily quiet. We only saw a few people.
When a cab pulled up to drop someone off at the train station, my dear husband rushed to ask if he would drive us to the hotel. The driver seemed genuinely upset at this question but agreed to take us if we paid in cash. We loaded the luggage, hopped in, and the driver took off. We learned some of the most colorful words in Italian as we drove around the corner. Our driver was shouting out expletives and making aggressive hand gestures to other vehicles, of which there were only a few, and then suddenly slammed on his brakes. He exited the car, walked around, opened my door, and told us to get out. It was my turn to look confused and frazzled.
He kept pointing down the street, telling us to go. We figured out that this was as far as he could drive since the road was blocked off to vehicles and is for pedestrian use only at this street corner. Our hotel was up this street. So, after paying the driver 8 euros for the block-and-a-half ride, we gathered our luggage and started walking. Luckily, even though the street was cobble-stoned, there were sidewalks on this street. It was slightly uphill, and it was very hot outside. This street was also eerily quiet.
First Impressions: Heat, Hunger, and Hidden Hotels
It’s a funny human nature thing, but you tend to talk quieter when it’s quiet around you. It was either that or we were too hot, huffing and puffing our way up the street. Either way, we quietly made our way and found our building. There was no sign, just a massive double door. We opened the door and found the instructions for obtaining our room's key. This was not a hotel. It was an apartment/condo building. Our room was on the top floor and there was no elevator. Luckily, the building was only four flights.
My dear husband looked at me and worriedly sighed. There is a long and painful history with me and stairs. It is not necessarily multiple stairs; it only takes one to cause an incident with me. I tend to trip, fall, stumble, whatever you want to call it. I’m a clutz. Now we’re talking about four flights of stairs, that’s quadruple the risk of me falling, add in the luggage, and now we’re looking at a 90% chance that I will somehow hurt myself, on this, our first day of vacation. Being used to these odds, I put on my brave face and started the ascent. My loving husband wanted me to leave the luggage for him, but there is no way I would make him carry both bags up these stairs. Determined, I carefully tackled the four flights—and made it without incident!
We entered the front door using a key code and found ourselves in a common hallway with a small kitchen and laundry equipment. This space was a three-bedroom flat, renovated into individual “hotel rooms” with a kitchen and a hall common area. The door at the end of the hallway on the right was our room. The key was hanging inside the hallway waiting for us. The room was spacious, with a hot tub, bathroom, and sleeping area. Most importantly, it had air conditioning.
We promptly got the room cooling, and once settled, we decided it was time to go back out into the heat to find lunch. Down the stairs and back out into the oven we went. I had mapped a few places down the street towards the ocean, back towards the train station. We headed to the first to check it out. When we arrived at the first spot, it was closed. We went on to the next option, which was also closed. We tried two more places before we realized that this is why the streets were so empty. The town had shut down for the afternoon siesta. It was too hot to be out, and every business and occupant of this little ancient town agreed on this one fact.
That was not entirely factual. We did notice one place historically always open during the day. There, with its unmistakable sign, was the US Embassy, aka McDonald's. We walked down to it, and sure enough, it was open. We went right in and ordered our lunch. We saw a few people come in and out while we ate, mainly teenagers. After lunch, we decided that we would happily follow the local custom. We went back to our now cool room. It was midday riposo time!
The Town Awakens
The sun sets pretty late in the middle of summer in Italy. We waited until 9:00 PM before heading back out to see what we could find for dinner. The first noticeable difference was not only the tolerable temperature, but also that there were people out and about. We strolled down the street, holding hands, window shopping, smiling, and greeting others.
Plenty of shops, trattorias, and osterias were on the main street, but in true Italian form, turning down random alleyways led to little piazzas and other alleyways filled with additional shops and restaurants. There were the beautiful sounds of people talking and laughing, clinking dinnerware, and children playing.
That first night, we stopped at a small osteria with seating on both sides of an alleyway. My husband and I shared a light pasta meal with wine while people-watching. Families of different generations, groups of friends, lovers, and future lovers were all out enjoying the evening. This eerily quiet ancient town had turned into a romantic, cozy, friendly, bustling village. My husband and I easily caught up in the atmosphere as we sipped our wine.
The music started just as we thought it would all be calming down because of the late hour. Attention was no longer on sitting and dining. Families thinned in numbers, but the remaining people, with more coming from the other closing restaurants, gathered in this alley for nightcaps, singing, dancing, and laughter.
Our travel day fatigue, despite a riposo, caught up to my husband and me, so we wandered back up the street, holding hands and dreamily talking about how amazing the night had been. We both agreed that we couldn’t wait to explore a little more tomorrow in this charming ancient town. We could hear the music and voices in the distance as we returned up the four flights of stairs. Who knows how long the revelry continued. Our room was quiet and we slept peacefully.
J.S. Whaldo in front of Fortezza Michelangelo / Photo by Whaldo Digital Content
The next day, we rose early. The shops and cafes were open. People were bustling off to work, and kids were outside playing. We had fruit and pastries to start our day. We walked down to Fort Michelangelo and walked in the park by the beach. We could see where we would embark on our cruise the following day at the Civitavecchia cruise port, and took the time to wander the streets. As the heat rose during the day, shops started shuttering, and caretakers called kids to come inside. It was time for the community to retreat indoors until dusk.
We snacked on fresh fruit in our cool room, read our books, and snuck in a power nap. This was the first leg of a very long, epic trip that would ultimately be exhausting. Starting the journey out on a relaxing note was relatively easy in Civitavecchia.
Piazza Magic
Once the sun went down, we ventured out into the bustling streets again. On this, our final night in Civitavecchia, we went a different direction than the night before. We happened upon a bustling piazza. It was called Piazza Antonio Fratti. There were a few restaurants in this square, but one was especially busy. The Pizzeria Red Carpet was bustling with people inside and outside. After looking at the different dining options in and around this piazza, we opted for the pizza. We joined the waiting list and watched kids play soccer in the square.
Again, the friends and families were out in droves. Some kids playing soccer would run over to eat a little with their family and promptly run back to play. The restaurant had a little toddler play area operated by a few employees who watched the youngsters play while the adult patrons enjoyed adult conversation over wine and delicious food.
Many people were waiting to get into this restaurant. Despite the number of people and the relaxed atmosphere, the restaurant staff quickly served meals, cleared the tables, and seated the next round of diners. This was a well-oiled machine. When we were seated, the staff was friendly and patient as we asked questions and made our orders. The Chianti was served promptly, and the hot pizza came out shortly after. Everything was delicious - the wine, the food, the atmosphere!
This night our experience was not a night of music and singing. It was a night of voices talking and laughing. Now and then, the children would squeal as the soccer ball went a little off center. Young adults would save the table from the flying intruder and joyfully return the ball, showing off their foot skills and remembering the fun of youth. The boys and girls were free to play and “be kids” on this balmy night in the piazza. Here and there, you would hear parents call out from the surrounding apartment homes, into the square, to their little ones - time to come in from playing. As the night went on, the children thinned out, but even at midnight, some older ones got their play time in while the temperature allowed.
There were other tourists in this crowd, presumably there for the next day's cruise. Tourists and locals alike were enjoying this lovely night. My husband and I finished our dinner and bottle of wine and slowly ambled back to our room, taking in the lively but peaceful Saturday night happenings along the way.
A Lesson in Slow Travel
We took an Uber to the pier the following day to embark on our Mediterranean cruise. As the ship sailed out, we watched as this busy port was in full swing—a completely different scene than the quiet little city we had just spent two days in. There’s always the local neighborhood side and business side of every town. We are very grateful that we took the time to explore the neighborhood side of this one.
Sometimes, my husband and I reminisce about our two nights in Civitavecchia. We compare notes on the little things that stick out in our minds. Do you remember that one couple dancing? Do you remember that multi-generational family dining together at that long table, laughing, everyone talking at once, and passing food around? Do you remember our first taxi driver - what were those words again? Do you remember how the boys and girls readily accepted other kids into their game? Remember the delicious food? Can you believe I never tripped or got hurt on any of the many stairs in Civitavecchia?!?
My husband and I have had many adventures together, and while this one was only two nights in a quiet little city that shuts down by 2:00 PM in the summer and then wakes up again after the sun goes down, it is one of our favorite experiences. This small town, filled with regular people just living their lives, demonstrates the beauty of Italian culture and a different way of life than we usually see in the United States.
It’s a perfect example of why exploring seemingly unremarkable places should not be skipped. You never know when a hidden gem of an ancient town will remind you why you love traveling.
I hope to see you again Civitavecchia, and I hope others take the time to experience your hidden charms.
- J.S. Whaldo
