Where Did Julius Caesar Take Vacation?

For all his ambition and relentless political maneuvering—which culminated in his assuming the role of Rome’s dictator for life in 44 B.C.—Julius Caesar also sought an escape from the burdens of the leadership. Like many elites of his time, Caesar turned to Baiae: a coastal retreat nestled along the Bay of Naples, renowned for its calm waters, dramatic landscapes, natural thermal springs and indulgent atmosphere.

Once the pinnacle of Roman leisure, much of ancient Baiae now lies beneath the sea, submerged over centuries by volcanic activity and bradyseism—the gradual rise and fall of the Earth’s surface.

“Baiae was a playground for the elite,” says Kevin Dicus, associate professor of classics at the University of Oregon, who adds that other prominent Romans beyond Caesar—including Cicero, Mark Antony, Nero and Hadrian—were also drawn to the decadent haven. “Being away from their official lives in Rome, they viewed Baiae as the place where they could behave (and misbehave) outside of the public view.”

Notably, historians believe Caesar brought Cleopatra, queen of Egypt, to Baiae during her visit from Alexandria. “Some say this is where she was staying when Caesar was killed in 44 B.C.,” Dicus notes. “Unfortunately, there is no clear corroborating evidence of this.”

Historical sources have also recently linked Caesar to a villa beneath the Castello Aragonese di Baiae, a 15th-century fortress. While Dicus notes that Caesar had a sumptuous villa in Baiae, he remains doubtful that this particular one was his. The excavated site, with its vibrant frescoes, clearly reflects great wealth—“it must have been a fabulous place to live.” Yet Dicus adds, “at a place like Baiae, ALL the villas were sumptuous and luxurious.”

In the spring of 1799, Napoleon Bonaparte, then head of France’s Armée d’Orient, waged an unsuccessful siege of the walled city of Acre (located in modern-day Israel), a failure that dashed his hopes of establishing an empire in the East. When he returned to Paris, he faced another another unwelcome development: His wife, Joséphine, had purchased Château de Malmaison, a grand but dilapidated 17th-century property located a few miles west of Paris, for 325,000 francs. “While he would have liked a house in Burgundy, Joséphine had fallen under the spell of Malmaison,” explains Isabelle Tamisier-Vétois, chief heritage curator of the Musée national des châteaux de Malmaison et Bois-Préau.

After Napoleon paid for the estate, Malmaison briefly served as the seat of the French government from 1800 to 1802, along with the Tuileries Palace in Paris. In the end, however, Napoleon came to regard Malmaison as “a place of refuge,” says Tamisier-Vétois. “Even as Emperor, he liked to stay here.”

Napoleon and Joséphine renovated the property with fabric-draped walls and ceilings influenced by military tents, along with war-themed decor, including ensembles of arms. Yet Malmaison was also a world apart from the battlefield: It was where Joséphine indulged her passion for botany and zoology. There, she commissioned extensive gardens that included over 250 varieties of roses and a vast menagerie of zebras, kangaroos, orangutans, ostriches, emus, parrots and rare black swans.

It also became a place of leisure, where the family found solace in simple pastimes. They played chess, tric-trac (similar to backgammon), loto dauphin (a precursor to bingo), bouillotte (a popular card game at the time) and billiards—during which Joséphine was known to cheat, according to Tamisier-Vétois. In a small theater constructed on the grounds, they also staged numerous productions in which Joséphine’s children, Hortense and Eugène, often performed. “Napoleon chose the plays and had his say, as with everything else!” says Tamisier-Vétois.

Following the death of her mother on March 16, 1861—and more significantly, the passing of her beloved Prince Albert on December 14 of the same year—Queen Victoria retreated into a years-long seclusion. During that time, she experienced weight loss and persistent headaches—what modern observers might identify as symptoms of depression or exhaustion. Heeding her doctor’s advice, Victoria—the most powerful woman of her time—decided to go on holiday. Given her husband’s affection for Switzerland, her destination was set.

Although Victoria insisted on traveling incognito under the title “Countess of Kent,” hundreds still gathered to greet her at the Lucerne railway station on August 7, 1868. Nevertheless, for the entire month, Victoria traveled with only a small retinue—three of her daughters and two ponies included—while staying at the Pension Wallis, an isolated hotel that overlooked Lake Lucerne.

Victoria visited the popular monuments, squares and memorials, but also showed her intrepid side. She summited Mount Pilatus on her pony Flora, and traversed the Furka Pass, from where she admired the Rhône Glacier: “One can hardly believe it is real, as it appears almost otherworldly!” she wrote in her diary.

She also returned to a once-cherished pastime: art. During her five weeks in Switzerland, Victoria produced 59 sketches and paintings, marking a turning point. “She had begun to sketch and draw people again, something she had rarely done since the death of Albert,” writes British social scientist David Seddon in The Alpine Journal. “Perhaps, at last she was a little better.” 

Winston Churchill is known as one of Britain’s staunchest defenders. But when it came to holidays, the two-time British prime minister preferred to trade his country’s cold and damp for the bright sunshine and vivid colors of France’s Mediterranean coast. Churchill returned time and again to the French Riviera, where he settled into a familiar routine. As he recounted to Edward, Duke of Windsor (formerly King Edward VIII), of a nine-day sojourn to Cap Martin in 1937: “I paint all day, and as far as my means go, gamble after dark.”

Churchill frequently withdrew to the sun-soaked calm of the French Riviera during times of political upheaval. Stung by the loss of his Parliamentary seat in 1922, he retreated with his wife Clementine and children to the Villa Rêve d’Or at La Croix-des-Gardes, just outside Cannes. There, he remained for six months, working on his war memoirs and painting en plein air (outdoors)—often spotted by locals with his travel easel, palette, cigars and parasol.

More than two decades later, Churchill faced a far greater blow. In July 1945, just weeks after Allied victory in Europe, his Conservative Party was decisively defeated in the general election. Clement Attlee became prime minister, and Churchill found himself excluded from the peace negotiations that followed. On September 2—the date of Japan’s formal surrender, bringing an official end to World War II—Churchill departed England. He traveled first to Italy, then to the French Riviera, where he stayed at the Hotel de Paris in Monte Carlo (“The food scrumptious, the wines the best. It was like the old days,” he wrote to his wife), before moving to a villa in Antibes provided by Dwight D. Eisenhower. 

In his later years, Churchill spent even more time on the French Riviera, often staying at La Capponcina, a coastal villa in Cap-d’Ail, and at La Pausa, perched amid olive groves high above the Corniche in Roquebrune-Cap-Martin. He wrote affectionate letters to his wife (who was often too unwell to join him), worked on his final book, A History of the English-Speaking Peoples, and painted. “Happy are the painters, for they shall not be lonely,” Churchill once wrote. “Light and colour, peace and hope, will keep them company to the end, or almost to the end, of the day.”

After Franklin Delano Roosevelt contracted polio at age 39 in 1921, he pursued every possible method to regain the use of his legs—from using a children’s double swing to riding a giant tricycle to experimenting with a device called the Whiteley Exerciser, which pulled limbs with rubber cables. So, when he heard about a paralyzed teenager who had begun walking after swimming in the mineral waters at Warm Springs, Georgia, Roosevelt eagerly wrote to his orthopedist, Dr. Byron Stookey: “There is nothing like trying it out.”

Roosevelt began swimming the day after he arrived at the resort on October 3, 1924. lmmediately, he reported seeing a noticeable improvement. “See that right leg? It’s the first time I have been able to move it at all in three years,” he told a reporter for the Atlanta Journal.

Warm Springs quickly became a central part of Roosevelt’s life. From his time as governor of New York through three terms as president, he returned there 41 times—often spending a few weeks each spring and fall, with shorter, less frequent visits during World War II. In 1926, he bought the property and established the Warm Springs Foundation, which opened the first hospital in the world devoted solely to treating polio patients—creating an invaluable sense of community. “The resort became a sanctuary where he felt fully at ease with his disability,” wrote James Tobin in The Man He Became: How FDR Defied Polio to Win the Presidency. 

Roosevelt swam daily in the naturally heated, 89-degree waters and often helped other patients with their pool exercises. He fished, went on picnics and drove an old Model T Ford rigged with hand controls through the countryside. In 1932, he finished building a modest one-story cottage on the grounds—later known as the Little White House. There, he read, collected stamps and sat on the back porch listening to birdsong.

On April 12, 1945, while sitting in a favorite chair by the fireplace for a portrait, Roosevelt suffered a massive stroke and died shortly after in his place of rest and hope.