One week until I have my second love affair. I’ve stayed faithful since I left. How could I not? In eighteen months I have yet to experience anything as dazzling as what I had two summers ago. My love has only become stronger, more persistent, and I am convinced that there is nothing I will ever see that will move me as deeply and completely. And it isn't just me who has had this cathartic love and unending lust--I am not alone, but I don't mind sharing as there is plenty of wonder to be partaken.
Italy. My future boyfriend/husband/lover will have to share me with Florence and Riomaggiore. These cities have pieces of my soul; as long as they are the guardians, I know all the best parts of me are safe to continue flourishing.
Italy makes it easier for me to see. The Italian love for everything bella and their ease with exclaiming it at the moment of discovery shows me how to open my eyes again—to appreciate daily pleasures. I can tap into my creativity, my passions for language, history, art, architecture, food, photography, writing—all the things I don’t have time to dedicate to while I am in the States.
These months leading up to my trip have been such a pleasure; the first bit of work-life balance since I started my job last May. Weekly Italian lessons with Giuseppina on Saturday mornings are the highlight of my week. Sipping a cappuccino, we review the passato prossimo and often used phrases, like Ho prenotato una camera per due persone and Io vorrei un Negroni, per favore. And of course, the most important: when to use bella, bene, and buona—beautiful, well, and delicious/good. Firenze is bella, things are going bene, and pizza and Maria are buona.
The plan:
April 5-8: Positano. The one coastal town I never had the pleasure of visiting. Two nights at Casa Teresa, with days spent exploring Amalfi and hiking to an abandoned tower. Evenings spent dancing at Music on the Rocks, a club carved out of the cliff. (see: http://www.musicontherocks.it/ )Best part: the club begins its 40th anniversary celebration the weekend I arrive. Timing couldn't be better.
April 8-10 Rome. The Eternal City for Easter. A once in a lifetime accidental blessing. I failed to look at a calendar and ended up lucking out. Palatine Hill, the Colosseum, the Borghese gallery. I’ve found a fantastic little bar in the Trastevere called Freni e Frizioni for a perfect aperitivo experience. My Italian tutor will soon divulge her favorite restaurants and trattoria shops. A trip to the Capitoline museum to see the She-Wolf bronze made by the Etruscans and enhanced in the 15th century with the addition of Remus and Romulus (to better fit the myth of Rome’s founding). So much to see and so little time; thankfully two panoramic views of the city are available to me: climbing the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica and a quick elevator ride to the top of the Vittore Emanuel building.
April 10-12 Riomaggiore and the rest of Cinque Terre. Back to see Ivo and with luck, Paolo. Two nights where I can enjoy dinner with friends, the wonders of small town life, and perhaps another evening of spontaneous karaoke on the side of a cliff overlooking the Ligurian Sea. I hope to fit in a little tanning or hiking, too. Perhaps the little vineyard walk I traversed last time….
April 12-16 Florence. La terra della mia vita. To be home again will be one of my greatest pleasures. Friday the 13th is for pure enjoyment of my home city. Climbing the dome of the Duomo—and entering the church at all—will be a first for me. Shopping in the leather market of San Lorenzo, revisiting the Piazza Michelangelo (this time without an unwelcome Italian date in tow). A reunion with my main man—Michelangelo’s David, of course— and later Alessandro and Giovanni at Twice nightclub will make for a glorious 24th birthday. Not to mention the beni culturali week begins on April 14th, which means I will be seeing David for free on my birthday (all national museums are free of charge, except the reservation fee. #winning.). And somewhere between all the museum visits and churches; all the the tacchino, pomodoro, e pesto panini and pizza from Dante’s; between all the “Ciao bella”’s and people-watching; somewhere between all of that I will walk the Ponte Carraia with a gelato in hand and photograph a sunset from the most perfect spot in the world.
Ben presto con saluti da Italia, (Soon with greetings from Italy)
Kait