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After a couple slices of putizza—a spiral cake filled with chocolate, dried fruit, and nuts that we had purchased at Pasticceria Penso the day before—Mike and I headed out to Piazza Oberdan to catch bus #44 to Duino. The ride took about 50 minutes; we had contemplated getting off at Sistiana (the town just before Duino) in order to walk along the Rilke Path to Castello di Duino, but since we didn’t spot the road signs for Sistiana until it was too late, we went ahead and visited the castle first.

Dating back to the early 15th century, Castello di Duino is best known as the home of the royal Thurn und Taxis family during the 19th century. Today, it houses a museum full of princely memorabilia, including a piano once played by Liszt and a massive dollhouse that belonged to Princess Eugénie of Greece and Denmark. Although the yellow-walled castle is not nearly as striking as Castello di Miramare, the two do share some similarities. Both are perched on a cliff overlooking the sparkling sea and surrounded by lush, manicured gardens. While Miramare’s gardens are much more expansive, Duino’s network of pathways, lined with cypress trees and statues, is ideal for a romantic stroll.

After touring the castle, we walked down to the harbor to Ristorante Alla Dama Bianca for lunch. The sunny weather was perfect for sitting at an outdoor table overlooking the water. First, we shared an appetizer of frutti di mare gratinati (scallops, razor clams, and mussels baked with a bread crumb topping). Next, I had ravioli filled with shrimp and tossed with melted butter and poppy seeds, while Mike had orecchiette with shrimp and tomato sauce.

After lunch, we made our way back up to the castle and found the entrance to the Sentiero Rilke. The path was named after the poet Rainer Maria Rilke, who was a frequent guest of Princess Maria von Thurn und Taxis. It is said that Rilke penned the beginning to his famous Duino Elegies while wandering along the sea cliffs near the castle on a dark and stormy day.

Beginning at Castello di Duino, the path hugged the meandering coastline all the way to the Baia di Sistiana. Shady pine forests alternated with breathtaking vistas of evergreen shrubs clinging to the rock face and precipitous, white limestone cliffs plunging into the sea, all set against a pristine backdrop of sea and sky. After a leisurely couple of kilometers, the trail finally emerged upon a sapphire blue bay dotted with sailboats. As the access to the path was hidden in the trees behind a campground there, it is perhaps fortunate that we missed Sistiana on our way that morning, for we may never have found the entrance.

Back in Trieste for dinner, we stumbled upon what has become one of my favorite restaurants in the region—Ristorante La Tecia. Partly it is their creative take on regional cuisine and their rotating menu of local dishes, but even more so I have come to appreciate the casual and welcoming atmosphere. It was a spot I returned to many times on future trips, always feeling comfortable dining alone—and even once accompanied by my four-year-old son.

On this particular evening, we were seated at an outside table in the middle of Via San Nicolò. I started with the salame all’aceto balsamico (slices of salami cooked in vinegar and onions and served with polenta), while Mike had the orzotto (barley cooked “risotto-style”) with artichokes and smoked ricotta cheese. Next, I had a rollata di crespelle (crêpes rolled up jellyroll-style with nettles, ricotta, and bread crumbs), and Mike finished with bocconcini di struzzo (cubes of ostrich—yes, ostrich yet again) with a sauce of gin and tarragon. We also shared a plate of verdure in tecia (sautéed vegetables) that has given the restaurant its name—a tecia is a cast iron skillet. At La Tecia, the assortment of vegetables varies with the season; this evening it included peas, red bell peppers, zucchini, cabbage, and potatoes.