Italia, Italia

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It's funny how little time it takes for all of the negative aspects of a trip or memories to fall away. When I left Italy just a few short weeks ago, I was very ready to say good-bye and return to the comforts of Canada and to see all of my much missed family. I felt that I had gained all that I needed from the trip and seen what life had to offer there for me. Of course at the time I felt a sense of sadness at leaving those beautiful ancient canals and crumbling facades behind, but I was also so very excited to return to the familiarity of home.

Well this morning a very strange thing happened, as I woke up I was for the first time surprised to find myself back in my bedroom, wrapped up in my ever so soft and fluffy duvet. But for some reason it didn't feel like the right place to wake up to. I was expecting when I opened my eyes to be hit by the bright Mediterranean sun piercing through my balcony window. To hear the sounds of countless buses and cares whizzing by on the busy street outside of the apartment. Hear the soothing wail of those European sirens, a constant reminder of your where abouts in the world. I wanted to wake up and take a stroll down Via Cappucina to my favorite little espresso bar on the corner, the one that serves up the delicious creamy Lavazza espresso and flaky croissants. I thought perhaps I would hop on the bus and take the short commute across the bridge to the little (big) island of Venice and stroll through the thick swarms of tourists that crowd the narrow streets. Smell chestnuts roasting on open fire pits, dodge puddles of ooey gooey gelato that no matter how hard one tries always manages to drip it's way down those little cones in the sticky heat.

The human memory is really an incredible thing. I keep thinking I should have written blogs as soon as I returned from my mini-excursions to keep the thoughts fresh and current in my mind. But it seems that they have remained as powerful as ever, or at least the memories worth remembering. There was that time in Verona I got in a heated argument with a restaurant owner because.. well I can't exactly remember now? But I do know there were some loud words exchanged and he had ended the argument by throwing my credit card back at me like a frisbee. That clearly wasn't really worth remembering. However the rest of that weekend will never be forgotten. Our arrival to our "Bed & Breakfast", a bedroom in the apartment of one of the heaviest drinkers I have ever encountered. I would remember his name if he had himself known it, so to Alex & I he will forever just be that really wasted guy who over-charged us to sleep in his sketchy apartment for the evening haha. But we made the best of it and that night still remains one of my favorite's in Italy. We wandered the tiny romantic streets of Verona, pink-hued marble buildings lit up by soft lanterns along the medieval-esque streets. Couples everywhere, walking hand in hand and literally oozing lovey dovey feelings in to the warm night air.

As per usual we stumbled upon a pizzeria for some late night dinner. Perhaps the greatest pizzeria I visited, we were treated like goddesses. A few bottles of wine may have flowed through our goblets, but the company was fantastic and the food even better. We were treated to complimentary limoncello gelato, charmed like we were royalty, and even the traditional two cheek kiss was taken to the next level upon our departure. We had earned a three cheek kiss! A sheer accomplishment if you have ever spent time with Italians haha.

I visited my very first arena that weekend, one of the oldest in Europe and almost perfectly intact. I will never forget the feeling of standing at it's upper most ring and over looking the entire little city and dark, murky river. I felt in that very moment a true feeling of infinity. Like I had the power to accomplish anything and everything. However, I cannot recall when that feeling faded. Or for how long it lasted. But it was one of those moments I will look back on for the rest of my life. It's that feeling that I so often struggle to obtain in daily life. Back here, back at home, I feel just like another number signing up for the rat race of life. It's almost amusing to me, that the one thing I was starting to become most frustrated by, my restlessness at the slow pace of daily life in Europe, is now the one thing I am missing the most. Rome may have been a gigantic sensory overload, millions of people every which way, cars filling the streets, buses, trains, bicycles, dogs, vendor carts.. you name it and the streets were packed with them! But even in the chaos, there was still a sense of a slowed energy. Some how, in this country with so much space and freedom, I am feeling even more confined and overwhelmed by it all. It's as if we just have TOO many options these days! Everything is a decision, what to wear? What type of cuisine to eat? Buy a car? Ride a bike? Go to school? Keep working? Holy moly! I just can't keep up with it all these days. This may just be me, I am not sure. But I am trying my damn hardest to try and bring a sense of tranquility in to my days here. Simplification is key. Why is that always easier said than done?

I guess it's at least nice to know that in my dreams I can always return to those places, reflect upon an afternoon spent laying on the thick green carpet of grass, admiring the Tower of Pisa as it loomed overhead. Long for a cup of that heavenly white chocolate lavender gelato I stumbled upon in Verona. Crave that unreachable crispy thin crust pizza from Milan, loaded up with succulent porcini mushrooms and foodgasm worthy truffle oil.. oh Italy. Maybe I miss you just a little more than I realized I could! Well, I guess the next best thing is to head out for an afternoon bike ride and a cappuccino..

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