Exiled like Napoleon to Elba Island, Italy

Isola d’Elba is where Italians go to unwind. This remote island, one hour’s ferry ride from the Tuscan coast, is also popular with French tourists due to its Napoleonic history. This was helpful to me since I have a bad habit of lapsing into French (my second language) when trying to speak any foreign language.

Following his abdication in 1814, Napoleon and his personal guard of 600 men were exiled to Elba. Napoleon ruled there as governor for 300 days, trying to improve the lives of islanders while secretly planning his next invasion.

 This was Napoleon's drawing room.

Napoleon’s home and gardens are now a museum, Villa dei Mulini a Portoferraio.

A steep path down from Napoleon’s enclosure led to a sand and pebble cove, Spiaggia delle Viste.

A passing clipper ship matched the timeless setting.

Although Le Viste Restaurant and Bar (phone: 0565.914405) is a more recent addition,
the hospitable owner spoke some French.

Why did Napoleon want to escape such paradise to wage yet another war? After his defeat at Waterloo, he was exiled to a more remote island in the South Atlantic. I can vouch that even his troops lived well on Elba as we stayed in their breezy barracks. This was our bedroom view at sunset (opposite side of the lighthouse from Napoleon’s garden.) The first photo was shot from the bedroom at sunrise.

Here’s the kitchen view at sunset . . .

And at dawn.

I spent hours just watching the light change as boats sailed into the harbor.

To reach Napoleon’s cliff-side residence, one climbs up the many steps of Portoferraio.

Residents and their guests can drive
straight from the ferry terminal
through buildings . . .

Swerving around the toes of matrons 

chatting on their doorsteps 

and squeezing 

through openings 

so narrow 

that 

full 

auto insurance 

was a good investment.

This road sign amused my learner-permit son.
Our host made the turn in 3 points
but
ours
was
more
like
7 points
minus
some car paint.

In late June we were staying with my friend Anna (right of me), who went to high school with me in New York City before moving back to Italy. Even after so many years, we easily picked up where we left off. This photo was taken by my husband.

On our last night we dined at Le Vista . . .

Watching the sun set . . .

Over mainland Tuscany. This is my kind of exile.