I.Love.Italy.
Well, I'm back from my grand tour of northern Italy, jetlagged and all. Took the day off to recuperate, unpack, pick up the dog, and generally pull myself back to the east coast time zone.
Would it be enough to simply say that my trip was incredible? Of course not. Not only did I fall in love with Italy, the men, the clothes, the food, the alcohol and the scenery; I met a 'dillion' (a la JM) people that made the trip even more amazing. Here are segments of the things that I never want to forget from Rome, Florence, Venice and Milan (respectively) from memory and from the journal I kept the whole time. I apologize in advance to the grammar Gods for my frequent flipflopping between the present and past tenses. I just don't feel like working that hard to keep it all in one tense.
JFK en route to Rome:
Al Italia direct flight 611 at 9:10 PM. Somehow managed to bump into 40 of my friends in the gate next to mine. Lots of hugs. It was really cute, I promise.
ROMA 2/17
I loved our ultra-mod hotel called the Visconte palace. There was artwork everywhere, and so much WHITE. The breakfasts all vacation were pretty kickass too. The streets are so narrow in Rome, it leaves barely enough room for two way traffic. The architecture is just phenomenal. I can't fathom how anything that old can be so goddamned beautiful. The first night mom and I took a walk around the hotel, walked across one of the many bridges over the Tiber river. The weather was shockingly pleasant in Rome. Cool air, stars. The Spanish steps were amazing. We sat down for a good 1/2 hour and I reveled in people watching. I will NEVER forget how gorgeous the men are in Rome. Seriously. Beautiful. Save for the verbal accosts. I forgive you BPIM (beautiful perfect italian men). Went to eat at a tiny little restaurant 1 block from the Trevi fountain. White wine. Red wine. Gnocchi. It was the first time I saw my mom tipsy. Saw the Trevi fountain. Wow. Pickpockets everywhere, swarming the masses. The Roman police were helping them too; coming over and slipping wallets in the thieves' pockets. What a fascinating conundrum. Next day we took a 1/2 day bus/walking tour of the Roman monuments. The cylindrical stone of things I can't remember their names, with stories carved into them. One of them had over 2000 characters carved into it. One of them commemorated Marcus Aurelius's accomplishments. The Parliament was under renovation and had beautifully perfect facades covering the unfinished product. We don't do facades in America. Except for Hollywood. That's different. The Pantheon. I love how many coat of arms there were. I love the traditions. Piazza Navona was soooooooooooooo nice. Used to be a racetrack; that's why it's so freaking huge. The perimeter was full of trattorias, gelaterias. Middle is filled with artisans selling their crafts, the enormous fountain. St. Peters Cathedral, Vatican courtyard, papal residence. We heard the pope speak (because it was Sunday) for about 10 minutes. He blessed everyone and wished a good week upon all. He spoke from the 2nd window from the right on the top floor. I had no idea what he was saying. "Ave Maria...Benedictos...Santa Maria..." The scene was so perfect. Oddly ran into this kid Jason from my school, briefly looked for the rest of my friends but didn't find them in the sea of people. On to Piazza Venezia where mom and I sat "cliche-ly" outside for lunch at an adorable cafe. I had a delish beer. Mom had an orange soda! The view from the cafe: Roman forums, the colosseum, crystal blue sky. I had never been more at peace. Found this small boutique with nearly everything on sale, so naturally I bought a million things. The owner, Pilar (sick name) ended up being from Peru so Mom and I spoke to her in almost fluent Spanish. Spent a few hundred euro there. Yesssss! Okay, one of my favorite parts of Rome was the Vespas. I want an effing Vespa so badly. I almost got hit by one at least 3X a day (partly because the drivers in Italy are on CRACK), but, still! I want it I want it I want it. Florence experience with Vespas to be explained later. And the SmartCars. They are so adorable and tiny and environmentally aware <3<3<3. Love. What else in Rome? Oh, my MOTHER, an ex-smoker made me try a cigarette not only because almost everyone smokes there but..."when in Rome". So, first time? I coughed and coughed and found it repulsive. Throughout the rest of the trip I had a few more but, lemme tell you. Certainly not worth becoming addicted to. But still, it was fun to live a little; try something new. My mom's pretty cool sometimes. One of the nights we went to this restaurant in an insanely narrow alley. On the walk there we pass a different restaurant and I make the hottest eye contact with an equally hot guy. My mom is oblivious and keeps walking. I slow down, feeling adventurous, and smile at this amazing specimen of the male species (I WISH I HAD A PICTURE!). He smiles back and mouths “ciao bella”, winks and then who appears to be his boss walks in and sees us, laughs and directs him to a table. I walk away, and I can’t stop smiling.
FIORENZE 2/21
The train ride was amazing. Oh, did I mention that our insanely cool travel agent got us a chauffeur to pick us up from the hotel to the train station, and every transfer we needed throughout the trip, in different Mercedes? And all of the train rides were first class. Schweeeeeet. So back to the train ride. We met this young originally Jamaican couple, now living in Florida, and spent the time chatting and enjoying the scenery. I never thought I would love the countryside so much. I kept on saying how I want to get a place in the country, and my mom said, "You would go crazy in about 3 hours. Stick to the city." Oh well.
The hotel De La Ville was beeyooteefull. Florence was probably the most aesthetically beautiful city of the trip. When we got there it was lightly raining. I took a nap and my mom went out to get us some food. She came back with pizza with artichokes and caperse and fresh tomato and mozzarella. MmmMMmmM. We took a city tour eventhough it was raining harder. Our guides name was Ida. She was really boring. Went to Fiezole, a town on a hill, for a panoramic view of Tuscany. The houses were a goldish color, with terracotta. All soft, warm colors. I loved the different colors of shutters. Red, Green, Yellow. Met another mom and daughter travelling - Beth and Sarah Clayton. From Naples, Florida - so nice! Went on a tour a few days later to the Tuscan countryside in the Chianti Region. God. How incredible was this tour? I learned a ton about wine (I'd been drinking it so much the past few days I might as well have learned about it). Beth and Sarah were on that tour too. We went to Castello del Trebbiano. Picturesque stone castle overlooking the vineyards. Rows and rows and rows. There were villas scattered throughout the mountains. Umberto was our guide in the castle - he is a cousin of the family who resides there now. The Medici's owned it before. Umberto colorfully told us about the history of the castle in the Conspiracy Room. The Pazzis plotted to overthrow the Medici's - they killed Julio but not Lorenzo. Lorenzo retaliated and took over the castello. The castle was built in the 1100's but there were several addendums like the courtyard. Met the gatekeeper Marco, 79 years old. He kept on winking at me and kneeling at my feet saying "bella, bella, bella". Marcos seem to like me. (Foreshadowing) One of the highlights of the trip was I'Latini. I basically picked it out of the tourguide book because it was supposed to be a fun, popular place with good food at a good price. It was in a tiny little alley, but there were about 50 people huddling around the door with umbrellas. We had a reservation but it was irrelevant. I said to mom, “It’s like Carmine’s at home. They just pull people in at random times!” Then I hear behind me “Um, do you mean Carmines in NY? I live about a block from there.” I make small talk with the girl who spoke up, she looks to be in her 20’s, she’s with what seems like her mom. Totally by coincidence we’re seated together. Ear-deafening room. Whole hams hanging from the ceiling. The mom-daughter duo - Kelsea - she’s 22, FIT student, studying abroad for a semester in Florence. Her mom Patty - 48 year old nurse. They’re from CT. The waiter brings us all a full plate of proscuitto. The first of the plethora of alcohol is served. Chianti classico. It’s in this ENORMOUS bottle. Let’s just say it was emptied way before the end of the evening. There was no menu at this fine establishment. Waiter flirts with Kelsea and I, keeps on kissing us as we get drunker and giddier. He brings us more and more dishes, and then Tuscan red wine. Huge platter of meats; veal, beef, pork, chicken, lamb, no rabbit please. Biscotti with sweet wine for dipping. Muscatel sweet dessert wine, mmmmm. Walked around with Kelsea for a while after, met up with two of her Italian friends and took a ride on their Vespas. Luca. At the end of the night, Kelsea and I exchanged info and promised to hang out in America :-). Another tour of the city the next day. 3 language tour. Michalengelo square overlooking the city from the hills with a replica of David. Wow. Beautiful ambassadorial houses, gated chateaus built into the hillsides. It is simply idyllic. Il Duomo is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Marble colors represent…green = hope, white = faith, red = charity. Later the colors of the Italian flag. Academie museum. The colossal David. No words. No cameras allowed. But I will NEVER forget it. The tour guide explained a lot of the symbolism in Michelangelo’s crafting of David. I never knew the story of David and Goliath before. That night my mom’s back gave out and she wasn’t up to going out for dinner so I ventured out by my lonesome. It turned out to be quite nice. Went to this place called Buco Mario’s. Chatted it up with the maitre’d and the waiters in VERY amateur Italian. Goodbye Florence; may you treat every visitor as well as you did me.
VENEZIA 2/24
We arrive! Private water taxi in the rain. The water is choppy and the taxi drivers are having difficulty navigating through the narrow “streets”. I didn’t realize that it was the famous Carnavale in Venice but wow, what an experience. We ended up changing our plans and stayed an extra night in Venice, a night less in Milan. Best decision ever. People in Venice were dramatically dressed up, faces painted, elaborate masks made out of papermache, or however you spell it. Chefs singing on the Rialto bridge. Shops packed. Raucous young people, equally raucous older people. Liquor. Liquor everywhere. Liquor in the street. Piazza San Marco is the largest piazza yet. One big party. A huge stage is set up with multiple performances all day/night. What a sight. Danced with a few different strangers. All in good fun. The police controlled foot traffic through the narrow paths because there were so many people. Friday night we ditch a snooty reservation at a pretentious restaurant and choose a hopping pizzeria. Mom’s still hungover from the other night but I certainly am not. The waiter made casual flirtations the whole night with my mom. He was probably about 6’, tan, glasses, choclatey eyes, in his 20’s? Ridiculously goodlooking. I’m more than tipsy by the end of the night. We’d conversed with a few couples around us throughout the dinner. Ridiculously goodlooking waiter sees how giddy/drunk I am and says in broken English “This may be rude but, I’d like to know, because you ordered wine but you’re American. How old are you?” I tell him to guess. He says…20? I say, close. 18. Okay so little white lie. Sue me. My mom is laughing at this scene and excuses herself to the bathroom. Ridiculously goodlooking waiter looks back to see if his boss is around, and sits at my table. He flashes a beautifully perfect smile and says, “How old, is, how you say...appropriate for an American girl to go out on a date?” And I’m like “What do you mean? I guess it depends on the family. I don’t know. I never had a specific age.” I wasn’t prepared for this next proposition. “Would it be ummmm come se dice...out of line for me to ask you to go out with me for a drink after I finish work? I’m done at 10:30. You’re absolutely beautiful. Just one drink. We could go out to Piazza San Marco after. I think we’d have fun.” My eyes must have been shocked because he said, “I know we’d have fun”. I said something like, “I don’t doubt it. You’re not bad yourself.” I don’t think he understood what I meant so I said, “I’d love to. Let me ask my mom.” I guess I was out of touch with reality because my mom laughed in my face. A stranger? A waiter? In a city we’ve been in for 1 day? At 10:30 at night? HA! Marco (waiter) comes over with the check and says “I’m waiting bella” and I said sweetly, “I’m sorry. How old are you anyway?” “28” HA! “You’re just a little bit too old for me. But thank you for the offer.” BUMMER! That wasn’t the last of Marco though! Ventured out alone a few days later, walked by the restaurant, smiled through the window, and ended up having a nice chat and a few laughs with him plus a free drink. Good deal good deal. What else? Bought several masks for several people. Took the extra day to have a private tour of the island Murano where they make all that gorgeous blown glass. Mom bought a sick vase for 4 or 500 euro. Our tour guide was goooooooorgeous. Much older. But puuuuurty. I’m such a whore. Sunday night I went out to a bar and completely let loose. Rock band singing English. Weird. It was raining but no one cared. About 100 people dancing recklessly, smoking, drinking, kissing, laughing. Walked over to the water, gondolas carrying couples, just like in the movies. What a romantic country. If I were into romance, I’d like it even more. Oh, fabulous shopping too. Lots n' lots of clothes. And a pair of kickass shoes.
MILANO 2/27
Spent about a 1/2 day in Milan. It lives up to it’s descriptions of the high fashion city that’s kind of like NY. I prefer my home city though. Il Duomo was inspiring, La Scala equally beautiful, but I could have done without Milan. It was a little pretentious for me. I would have stayed another day in Venice if we didn’t have a plane to catch in Milan the next day. Oh well. I love Italy just the same.
And that’s my trip in not-so reader’s digest form. I can’t wait to put my pictures online. I lovelovelove Italy and Europe and not-America and not-Long Island. No, I didn’t miss LI. These past 11 days have only affirmed that I won’t miss LI when I leave for college, graduate school, and life, really. I’ll go on my ‘why I hate LI’ rant another time. For now, I just want to think about how lucky I am/was to visit another country for 11 days. I love my life.
I don't love tomorrow though. School. Pit till 5. Work 6-10. All with a hefty punch of jetlag.
Welcome back, Melissa.
Would it be enough to simply say that my trip was incredible? Of course not. Not only did I fall in love with Italy, the men, the clothes, the food, the alcohol and the scenery; I met a 'dillion' (a la JM) people that made the trip even more amazing. Here are segments of the things that I never want to forget from Rome, Florence, Venice and Milan (respectively) from memory and from the journal I kept the whole time. I apologize in advance to the grammar Gods for my frequent flipflopping between the present and past tenses. I just don't feel like working that hard to keep it all in one tense.
JFK en route to Rome:
Al Italia direct flight 611 at 9:10 PM. Somehow managed to bump into 40 of my friends in the gate next to mine. Lots of hugs. It was really cute, I promise.
ROMA 2/17
I loved our ultra-mod hotel called the Visconte palace. There was artwork everywhere, and so much WHITE. The breakfasts all vacation were pretty kickass too. The streets are so narrow in Rome, it leaves barely enough room for two way traffic. The architecture is just phenomenal. I can't fathom how anything that old can be so goddamned beautiful. The first night mom and I took a walk around the hotel, walked across one of the many bridges over the Tiber river. The weather was shockingly pleasant in Rome. Cool air, stars. The Spanish steps were amazing. We sat down for a good 1/2 hour and I reveled in people watching. I will NEVER forget how gorgeous the men are in Rome. Seriously. Beautiful. Save for the verbal accosts. I forgive you BPIM (beautiful perfect italian men). Went to eat at a tiny little restaurant 1 block from the Trevi fountain. White wine. Red wine. Gnocchi. It was the first time I saw my mom tipsy. Saw the Trevi fountain. Wow. Pickpockets everywhere, swarming the masses. The Roman police were helping them too; coming over and slipping wallets in the thieves' pockets. What a fascinating conundrum. Next day we took a 1/2 day bus/walking tour of the Roman monuments. The cylindrical stone of things I can't remember their names, with stories carved into them. One of them had over 2000 characters carved into it. One of them commemorated Marcus Aurelius's accomplishments. The Parliament was under renovation and had beautifully perfect facades covering the unfinished product. We don't do facades in America. Except for Hollywood. That's different. The Pantheon. I love how many coat of arms there were. I love the traditions. Piazza Navona was soooooooooooooo nice. Used to be a racetrack; that's why it's so freaking huge. The perimeter was full of trattorias, gelaterias. Middle is filled with artisans selling their crafts, the enormous fountain. St. Peters Cathedral, Vatican courtyard, papal residence. We heard the pope speak (because it was Sunday) for about 10 minutes. He blessed everyone and wished a good week upon all. He spoke from the 2nd window from the right on the top floor. I had no idea what he was saying. "Ave Maria...Benedictos...Santa Maria..." The scene was so perfect. Oddly ran into this kid Jason from my school, briefly looked for the rest of my friends but didn't find them in the sea of people. On to Piazza Venezia where mom and I sat "cliche-ly" outside for lunch at an adorable cafe. I had a delish beer. Mom had an orange soda! The view from the cafe: Roman forums, the colosseum, crystal blue sky. I had never been more at peace. Found this small boutique with nearly everything on sale, so naturally I bought a million things. The owner, Pilar (sick name) ended up being from Peru so Mom and I spoke to her in almost fluent Spanish. Spent a few hundred euro there. Yesssss! Okay, one of my favorite parts of Rome was the Vespas. I want an effing Vespa so badly. I almost got hit by one at least 3X a day (partly because the drivers in Italy are on CRACK), but, still! I want it I want it I want it. Florence experience with Vespas to be explained later. And the SmartCars. They are so adorable and tiny and environmentally aware <3<3<3. Love. What else in Rome? Oh, my MOTHER, an ex-smoker made me try a cigarette not only because almost everyone smokes there but..."when in Rome". So, first time? I coughed and coughed and found it repulsive. Throughout the rest of the trip I had a few more but, lemme tell you. Certainly not worth becoming addicted to. But still, it was fun to live a little; try something new. My mom's pretty cool sometimes. One of the nights we went to this restaurant in an insanely narrow alley. On the walk there we pass a different restaurant and I make the hottest eye contact with an equally hot guy. My mom is oblivious and keeps walking. I slow down, feeling adventurous, and smile at this amazing specimen of the male species (I WISH I HAD A PICTURE!). He smiles back and mouths “ciao bella”, winks and then who appears to be his boss walks in and sees us, laughs and directs him to a table. I walk away, and I can’t stop smiling.
FIORENZE 2/21
The train ride was amazing. Oh, did I mention that our insanely cool travel agent got us a chauffeur to pick us up from the hotel to the train station, and every transfer we needed throughout the trip, in different Mercedes? And all of the train rides were first class. Schweeeeeet. So back to the train ride. We met this young originally Jamaican couple, now living in Florida, and spent the time chatting and enjoying the scenery. I never thought I would love the countryside so much. I kept on saying how I want to get a place in the country, and my mom said, "You would go crazy in about 3 hours. Stick to the city." Oh well.
The hotel De La Ville was beeyooteefull. Florence was probably the most aesthetically beautiful city of the trip. When we got there it was lightly raining. I took a nap and my mom went out to get us some food. She came back with pizza with artichokes and caperse and fresh tomato and mozzarella. MmmMMmmM. We took a city tour eventhough it was raining harder. Our guides name was Ida. She was really boring. Went to Fiezole, a town on a hill, for a panoramic view of Tuscany. The houses were a goldish color, with terracotta. All soft, warm colors. I loved the different colors of shutters. Red, Green, Yellow. Met another mom and daughter travelling - Beth and Sarah Clayton. From Naples, Florida - so nice! Went on a tour a few days later to the Tuscan countryside in the Chianti Region. God. How incredible was this tour? I learned a ton about wine (I'd been drinking it so much the past few days I might as well have learned about it). Beth and Sarah were on that tour too. We went to Castello del Trebbiano. Picturesque stone castle overlooking the vineyards. Rows and rows and rows. There were villas scattered throughout the mountains. Umberto was our guide in the castle - he is a cousin of the family who resides there now. The Medici's owned it before. Umberto colorfully told us about the history of the castle in the Conspiracy Room. The Pazzis plotted to overthrow the Medici's - they killed Julio but not Lorenzo. Lorenzo retaliated and took over the castello. The castle was built in the 1100's but there were several addendums like the courtyard. Met the gatekeeper Marco, 79 years old. He kept on winking at me and kneeling at my feet saying "bella, bella, bella". Marcos seem to like me. (Foreshadowing) One of the highlights of the trip was I'Latini. I basically picked it out of the tourguide book because it was supposed to be a fun, popular place with good food at a good price. It was in a tiny little alley, but there were about 50 people huddling around the door with umbrellas. We had a reservation but it was irrelevant. I said to mom, “It’s like Carmine’s at home. They just pull people in at random times!” Then I hear behind me “Um, do you mean Carmines in NY? I live about a block from there.” I make small talk with the girl who spoke up, she looks to be in her 20’s, she’s with what seems like her mom. Totally by coincidence we’re seated together. Ear-deafening room. Whole hams hanging from the ceiling. The mom-daughter duo - Kelsea - she’s 22, FIT student, studying abroad for a semester in Florence. Her mom Patty - 48 year old nurse. They’re from CT. The waiter brings us all a full plate of proscuitto. The first of the plethora of alcohol is served. Chianti classico. It’s in this ENORMOUS bottle. Let’s just say it was emptied way before the end of the evening. There was no menu at this fine establishment. Waiter flirts with Kelsea and I, keeps on kissing us as we get drunker and giddier. He brings us more and more dishes, and then Tuscan red wine. Huge platter of meats; veal, beef, pork, chicken, lamb, no rabbit please. Biscotti with sweet wine for dipping. Muscatel sweet dessert wine, mmmmm. Walked around with Kelsea for a while after, met up with two of her Italian friends and took a ride on their Vespas. Luca. At the end of the night, Kelsea and I exchanged info and promised to hang out in America :-). Another tour of the city the next day. 3 language tour. Michalengelo square overlooking the city from the hills with a replica of David. Wow. Beautiful ambassadorial houses, gated chateaus built into the hillsides. It is simply idyllic. Il Duomo is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Marble colors represent…green = hope, white = faith, red = charity. Later the colors of the Italian flag. Academie museum. The colossal David. No words. No cameras allowed. But I will NEVER forget it. The tour guide explained a lot of the symbolism in Michelangelo’s crafting of David. I never knew the story of David and Goliath before. That night my mom’s back gave out and she wasn’t up to going out for dinner so I ventured out by my lonesome. It turned out to be quite nice. Went to this place called Buco Mario’s. Chatted it up with the maitre’d and the waiters in VERY amateur Italian. Goodbye Florence; may you treat every visitor as well as you did me.
VENEZIA 2/24
We arrive! Private water taxi in the rain. The water is choppy and the taxi drivers are having difficulty navigating through the narrow “streets”. I didn’t realize that it was the famous Carnavale in Venice but wow, what an experience. We ended up changing our plans and stayed an extra night in Venice, a night less in Milan. Best decision ever. People in Venice were dramatically dressed up, faces painted, elaborate masks made out of papermache, or however you spell it. Chefs singing on the Rialto bridge. Shops packed. Raucous young people, equally raucous older people. Liquor. Liquor everywhere. Liquor in the street. Piazza San Marco is the largest piazza yet. One big party. A huge stage is set up with multiple performances all day/night. What a sight. Danced with a few different strangers. All in good fun. The police controlled foot traffic through the narrow paths because there were so many people. Friday night we ditch a snooty reservation at a pretentious restaurant and choose a hopping pizzeria. Mom’s still hungover from the other night but I certainly am not. The waiter made casual flirtations the whole night with my mom. He was probably about 6’, tan, glasses, choclatey eyes, in his 20’s? Ridiculously goodlooking. I’m more than tipsy by the end of the night. We’d conversed with a few couples around us throughout the dinner. Ridiculously goodlooking waiter sees how giddy/drunk I am and says in broken English “This may be rude but, I’d like to know, because you ordered wine but you’re American. How old are you?” I tell him to guess. He says…20? I say, close. 18. Okay so little white lie. Sue me. My mom is laughing at this scene and excuses herself to the bathroom. Ridiculously goodlooking waiter looks back to see if his boss is around, and sits at my table. He flashes a beautifully perfect smile and says, “How old, is, how you say...appropriate for an American girl to go out on a date?” And I’m like “What do you mean? I guess it depends on the family. I don’t know. I never had a specific age.” I wasn’t prepared for this next proposition. “Would it be ummmm come se dice...out of line for me to ask you to go out with me for a drink after I finish work? I’m done at 10:30. You’re absolutely beautiful. Just one drink. We could go out to Piazza San Marco after. I think we’d have fun.” My eyes must have been shocked because he said, “I know we’d have fun”. I said something like, “I don’t doubt it. You’re not bad yourself.” I don’t think he understood what I meant so I said, “I’d love to. Let me ask my mom.” I guess I was out of touch with reality because my mom laughed in my face. A stranger? A waiter? In a city we’ve been in for 1 day? At 10:30 at night? HA! Marco (waiter) comes over with the check and says “I’m waiting bella” and I said sweetly, “I’m sorry. How old are you anyway?” “28” HA! “You’re just a little bit too old for me. But thank you for the offer.” BUMMER! That wasn’t the last of Marco though! Ventured out alone a few days later, walked by the restaurant, smiled through the window, and ended up having a nice chat and a few laughs with him plus a free drink. Good deal good deal. What else? Bought several masks for several people. Took the extra day to have a private tour of the island Murano where they make all that gorgeous blown glass. Mom bought a sick vase for 4 or 500 euro. Our tour guide was goooooooorgeous. Much older. But puuuuurty. I’m such a whore. Sunday night I went out to a bar and completely let loose. Rock band singing English. Weird. It was raining but no one cared. About 100 people dancing recklessly, smoking, drinking, kissing, laughing. Walked over to the water, gondolas carrying couples, just like in the movies. What a romantic country. If I were into romance, I’d like it even more. Oh, fabulous shopping too. Lots n' lots of clothes. And a pair of kickass shoes.
MILANO 2/27
Spent about a 1/2 day in Milan. It lives up to it’s descriptions of the high fashion city that’s kind of like NY. I prefer my home city though. Il Duomo was inspiring, La Scala equally beautiful, but I could have done without Milan. It was a little pretentious for me. I would have stayed another day in Venice if we didn’t have a plane to catch in Milan the next day. Oh well. I love Italy just the same.
And that’s my trip in not-so reader’s digest form. I can’t wait to put my pictures online. I lovelovelove Italy and Europe and not-America and not-Long Island. No, I didn’t miss LI. These past 11 days have only affirmed that I won’t miss LI when I leave for college, graduate school, and life, really. I’ll go on my ‘why I hate LI’ rant another time. For now, I just want to think about how lucky I am/was to visit another country for 11 days. I love my life.
I don't love tomorrow though. School. Pit till 5. Work 6-10. All with a hefty punch of jetlag.
Welcome back, Melissa.