Is there anything more delightful than sailing into Venice, watching as the waterfront slowly takes shape, delightful small boats darting about the harbor and the bell tower of St Mark’s Basilica up ahead ringing in your arrival? Seriously, that occasion is a memory I hold dear, as one does the sweet air. Perhaps you also keep a cherished moment in time where everything came together like magic? When the mist rose at dawn and illuminated the mountain ridge? When you spotted a bald eagle soaring overhead? When the Ferris wheel held you and your bestie at the very top just as the summer sun set into a whole sky of orange and pink? We all have those sacred moments lingering right under this same now, don’t we?
There is nothing about Italia I do not love. I know I sound like a blushing bride, all floaty and superficial, but as we traversed quickly from one region to the next, I was made drunk on the beauty, the language, the history, and certainly the food. Yes, in love, indeed.
Most, I am certain, have seen these sights before, if not with your own eyes then in photos, so there is little use of me writing another travelogue; but I do hope you come along with me all the same. This trip, two years in the making, finally underway, took a team, all smiles, from the moment we touched down until… well we’re still smiling.