I’m currently writing this in my rustic Airbnb, listening to the bells of a distant church as I take a bit of a break from the Tuscan sun.
Over the past few days, I’ve walked in the footsteps of Romans, soaked in the Amalfi coast, and been inspired by the visions of those who came before.
It’s my first time in mainland Italy and I wanted to see EVERYTHING. This endeavor, being slightly impossible within the 7-day time limit I have, has been narrowed down to a 3-city itinerary. Rome – Sorrento – Florence
Rome
I started my adventure making some new friends at the airport. We collided at the intersection of exhausted and excited, providing the chaos that was perfect for a new country. My new friends and I drove into Rome on the hunt for some ice cream, blasting music and taking in the city. Out of nowhere, the Colosseum seemed to emerge out of the ground. Screaming ensued. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to history books, google images, and postcards coming to life before my eyes.
My family arrived and we saw the sights in Rome, visiting the Vatican, St. Peter’s Basilica, the Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, the Jewish Ghetto, and so much more. The city transformed into an open-air museum; its history flirting with us at each turn.
Amalfi Coast
After a couple of days in Rome, we made our way down the Amalfi coast; it’s not exactly the aesthetic experience you image it to be. While Sorrento, Napoli, and the Amalfi coast are absolutely stunning, it takes a hardened Carribean driver like my dad to navigate the curves of the roads and sharp drop offs of the mountains. I image things seem even prettier if you believe them to be your last sight. We explored Pompeii and stopped for ice cream at a little village along the coast, the salty ocean scent mixing in with lemon gelato.
Bella mia. Bellissima. Ciao bella
While France is a Latin country in its own right, I truly have missed the hispanic cariñitos I’ve grown up with. Italy didn’t provide the princesa, nena, amor, mi cielo, or mi reina’s that I know, but a good bella mia did the trick.
There’s something about new experiences in an old place that make you feel grounded.
Florence
We drove in the rolling Tuscan hills, stopping in little medieval towns for an Aperol and a view. Our last stop, Florence, was my favorite.
I wandered the streets of Florence with my family, the familiar grumble of tired, hungry, sweating Americans behind me. Following the directions on my phone to the -“Are you serious Damaris a 13 minute walk?!”- Medici Chapel, I navigated my family through leather-bound markets, multi-lingual crowds, and what I’m sure were annoyed Italians. There was something about the city that called me. The artist gene in me was ignited and you could feel the presence of the artists and dreamers that came before. ‘Art is life, and life truly is art’, I thought as I sat in an intimate 15th century church, live opera singers notes vibrating through the room sending chills down my spine as I looked at the ceiling, adorned with Renaissance paintings.
While my trip was nothing like the movie; no heartbreak, whirlwind romances, or little Tuscan villas, they did have one thing in common; the most interesting characters. Whether it was quick directions that turned into a chaotic adventure with new friends, an unexpected hug from the chatty munchkin, an old Italian man telling us the tale of his life against the backdrop of his teal 3-wheel truck and the Tuscan hills, or the fourth-generation Roman taxi driver, one can always count on the constant state of interest that opening yourself up to new experiences brings.
It’s been a week since my trip and I’m back in Paris. While I was jolted out of my vacation and immediately thrown back into work, I can still feel the lingering effects of Italy on my restless fingers and wandering eyes, still itching for a pen to sketch and ruins to explore.
Ciao Italia
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