It was the movie that did it. The movie convinced my husband to say the 6 most romantic words that I had been dying to hear for years and years and years ...
"Let's plan a trip to Italy."
All I could say was, Thank You "Under the Tuscan Sun"!
"Let's plan a trip to Italy."
All I could say was, Thank You "Under the Tuscan Sun"!
Prior to this, I had immersed myself in Italian books and movies {Ferenc Mate buying a villa on the hills of Tuscany, Marlena de Blasi, a food writer, meeting her Venetian husband in the Piazza San Marco, and watching Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck on the Spanish Steps in Rome}, just dreaming of the day when I could pack up and move to Italy.
![Picture](/uploads/1/6/1/4/16143954/9412593.jpg?476)
I had this crazy idea that I was going to be like these Italian travelers and write my own memoir ... J and I would visit an obscure hilltown, not influenced by tourists, and find a 15th century stone villa buried deep within those hills, surrounded by acres of vineyard.
On any given day, we would stroll down our dirt path, wicker picnic basket in one hand and an old dilapidated quilt in the other. We'd pick a tree, most likely a cyprus, and spread our blanket out under the Tuscan setting sun and snack on cheeses and wine and strawberries. We'd stay there, watching the stars appear in the dark sky and talk about our upcoming grape harvest. Once we made it back to our villa {that we had spent years restoring}, J would start a fire in the black smoke covered fireplace lending some flickering light to the vast and chilly main room. We'd reminisce about our day - Vicenzo the Butcher became a father for the first time, Maria the Baker just got engaged to Fabrizio, her flour & yeast provider, and Isabella sold us some beautiful flowers that adorned the deep window ledge in the kitchen. Eventually they would become like family and we'd spend holidays with them around a long wooden table covered with a white lace tablecloth. Hanging lights and lanterns would be above our heads as we'd eat from mismatched china using real silverware, toasting to La Dolce Vita with wine {that we had made, of course!}, and Nico would serenade us on the accordion.
Quite simply, I wanted to escape from my life and start over in a new country where no one knew me.
On any given day, we would stroll down our dirt path, wicker picnic basket in one hand and an old dilapidated quilt in the other. We'd pick a tree, most likely a cyprus, and spread our blanket out under the Tuscan setting sun and snack on cheeses and wine and strawberries. We'd stay there, watching the stars appear in the dark sky and talk about our upcoming grape harvest. Once we made it back to our villa {that we had spent years restoring}, J would start a fire in the black smoke covered fireplace lending some flickering light to the vast and chilly main room. We'd reminisce about our day - Vicenzo the Butcher became a father for the first time, Maria the Baker just got engaged to Fabrizio, her flour & yeast provider, and Isabella sold us some beautiful flowers that adorned the deep window ledge in the kitchen. Eventually they would become like family and we'd spend holidays with them around a long wooden table covered with a white lace tablecloth. Hanging lights and lanterns would be above our heads as we'd eat from mismatched china using real silverware, toasting to La Dolce Vita with wine {that we had made, of course!}, and Nico would serenade us on the accordion.
Quite simply, I wanted to escape from my life and start over in a new country where no one knew me.
![Picture](/uploads/1/6/1/4/16143954/7078562.jpg?406)
“One more bridge, and that’s our street,” J told me encouragingly. It was 3pm, but it felt like twilight as the sun was hidden behind a sky of clouds. I felt tired from the 8 hour flight and sick from the 3 hour vaparetto ride. My carry-on-sized backpack was getting heavy, so J carried both of ours. It was only a ¼ mile walk from our vaparetto stop at St. Mark’s Square, but I was glad we didn’t have more luggage than that.
We turned the corner onto Calle del Vin and easily found our B&B, Albergo Doni. I was hit with a strong aroma of meat sauce and stewed tomatoes. This didn't help the overwhelming feeling of nausea! Nikos gave us the skeleton key for our room. Once in, I dropped my bags, looked at J and said with tears in my eyes, "I don't think I can do this for 17 more days!" I felt homesick. J glanced at me, not sure if he should laugh because I was kidding, or cry himself because I had been planning this trip for the last 2 years.
We turned the corner onto Calle del Vin and easily found our B&B, Albergo Doni. I was hit with a strong aroma of meat sauce and stewed tomatoes. This didn't help the overwhelming feeling of nausea! Nikos gave us the skeleton key for our room. Once in, I dropped my bags, looked at J and said with tears in my eyes, "I don't think I can do this for 17 more days!" I felt homesick. J glanced at me, not sure if he should laugh because I was kidding, or cry himself because I had been planning this trip for the last 2 years.
![Picture](/uploads/1/6/1/4/16143954/678226.jpg?405)
With tears in my eyes, I laid down on the bed, foregoing everything I had read about beating jet lag. The painted cherubs on the ceiling and gaudy lime green and cotton candy pink chandelier faded away as my eyes closed.
I had dreamed of escaping life and moving to Italy. I just knew that I would “find myself”, journal all my amazing experiences, creating stories that would result in a book that would be a best seller. I thought the reason I felt so extremely sad because I didn't feel "at home" in the states. I was destined to live in another country. I desperately wanted to find a new life. One where people didn’t know me and I could create a new persona.
Four hours into our 'nap', we awoke to sounds of men talking and laughing directly below our tall, open window. Evening had come, we were awake and finally ready to start exploring this beautiful Floating City. I put my feelings of homesickness in the back of my mind, and we started our Italian Adventure. {to be continued next month!}
I had dreamed of escaping life and moving to Italy. I just knew that I would “find myself”, journal all my amazing experiences, creating stories that would result in a book that would be a best seller. I thought the reason I felt so extremely sad because I didn't feel "at home" in the states. I was destined to live in another country. I desperately wanted to find a new life. One where people didn’t know me and I could create a new persona.
Four hours into our 'nap', we awoke to sounds of men talking and laughing directly below our tall, open window. Evening had come, we were awake and finally ready to start exploring this beautiful Floating City. I put my feelings of homesickness in the back of my mind, and we started our Italian Adventure. {to be continued next month!}
Open my heart, and you will see graved inside of it 'Italy'. Robert Browning