10 lbs Later...

Okay, so I probably haven't actually gained 10 lbs since I got to Italy, but likely very close to it. Still, I wouldn't trade it for anything. Our three weeks in Italy were a culinary treat that I will remember forever, and I hope everyone gets to experience the gluttony of pizza, pasta and gelato multiple times a day at least once. If you haven't yet, put it on your bucket list, and I promise you won't regret it.

Food aside, the past two weeks in Italy encompassed both some soaring highs and some barrel-scraping lows. After emerging triumphant from our adventures in the balsamic vinegar capital of the world, Ez and I found ourselves in Venice, land of canals, tourists, and canals full of tourists. Unfortunately, our first day there happened to be the storm of the century, but because our rain gear was packed at the very bottom of our well-stuffed suitcases, Ez and I dressed... well... poorly. I somehow convinced Ez that even though it was raining, it would be really hot, so he wore shorts and a rain jacket. I wore a sundress. Predictably, we both got soaked. Lucky for me, my dress dried quickly and it was pretty easy to find a hawker who wanted to sell me a plastic poncho. Unlucky for Ez, he was wearing never-drying khaki shorts, and spent the day soaked and cold, and understandably unhappy.

The next few days in Venice turned out to be beautiful, thankfully, and we explored the canals, churches, and even some of the gorgeous islands beyond the city in the Venetian lagoon. We even made it out to Padua for a day trip, where we ate more gelato and where I got to listen to Ez sing "I come to wive it wealthily in Padua" over and over again, because that is all he knew about Padua.

After Venice we headed north to a small town on Lake Garda called Saló. It was a miserable travel day-- we went from train, to bus, to waiting for 2.5 hours for another bus, to realizing we missed that bus, to calling a cab, to waiting for that cab, then to finally arriving at our country bed and breakfast in the hills overlooking Saló, a good 7 hours after we left Venice (which was only 120 miles away).

But, as often happens after a crappy travel day, we awoke the next morning to realize we were in the most beautiful place in the world. Our B&B was set back in the hills overlooking the lake, and we were surrounded by green meadows dotted with wildflowers, the Alps visible in the distance. It was the definition of quaint. Even our innkeeper was perfect... he was an elderly Italian man who seemingly never left the mountain, just drank his coffee overlooking the lake and tended to his guests. Seriously, he didn't even know what the internet was. When I asked if there was internet access, he didn't know what I was talking about until I pointed to the computer, at which point he said "Oh I don't know about that" and gestured for his cook to come help me. And, speaking of the cook, our B&B had the BEST food I have ever eaten, period. Ez does a good job describing it here.

Our day in Saló was also fabulous. We played cards at a lakeside cafe, munched on juicy olives, and Ez drank a beer while I sipped on my new favorite drink, the omnipresent Aperol Spritz. We also got gelato three times, but who's counting.

Our lakeside bliss, of course, was then followed by the worst day ever... our day in Milan. Now, maybe it was just because it's muggy and deserted in August, or maybe we were just bound to have a bad day, but Milan just seemed like an awful, awful place. Nothing was open, everything was ridiculously overpriced, and our hotel reception guy was a mean, sexist jerk. Maybe that last part wasn't Milan's fault, but it really didn't help. Anyways, not much to report here because we literally walked around miserable, starving and offended all day long.

After 24 hours, we emerged from Milan, hellbent on saving the trip which had seemingly taken a turn for the worst (24 hours seems like a lot when you're traveling I guess). We hopped on a train to Vernazza, one of the "Cinque Terre" (5 towns) on the West coast of Italy. Okay, that helped. Milan who? We swam, sunbathed, danced, ate, hiked... it was perfect. Just look at the pictures, I don't really need to say much.

Finally, our last(ish) stop was Florence, where we marveled at the Duomo, snuck pictures of The David (don't tell), and walked across the Ponte Vecchio (famous medieval bridge). As a highlight, I ordered an iced coffee at a cafe overlooking Pitti Palace, and they brought me a cold cappuccino in a martini glass dusted with cocoa powder and garnished with coffee beans. Oh, Italy.

And the grand finale... for our last day in Italy (literally hours before our flight), we made one last effort to find the illusive town of Panzano that had escaped us just 2 weeks prior. Being fairly sure we had the right town this time, Ez and I hopped on a bus, and after winding through the breathtakingly beautiful hills of Tuscany and then Chianti, we finally arrived in Pananzo-in-Chianti. In true Sarah&Ezra fashion, we probably got as lost as we possibly could in the two-street town, trying to find Ezra's hero-butcher, Dario Cecchini.

Of course, his butcher shop was right in front of where the bus originally let us off, so when we made it back there after 45 minutes of wandering around, we were pretty excited that not only had we found it, but it was just as everyone had promised it would be. Dario himself was there, and as we entered the shop we were bombarded with glasses of free chianti and a hearty spread of bread, cheese and salami. Ez and I headed up to the restaurant above his butcher shop for lunch, ordered wayyyyyy too much food, and then left just in time to catch our flight out of Florence.

Before I sign off from Italy though, I do want to say one thing. The other night I had a dream where I needed to exchange my new bathing suit because it was too big. When I got to the store, I was severely disappointed, because all the bathing suits in my size were actually spaghetti noodles. I was fine with this, but then I noticed that the spaghetti suits were all covered in bolognese. Deal breaker. I decided just to keep the one I had.

So, 10 lbs later (or thereabouts), I find myself sitting in an apartment in Copenhagen awaiting the many adventures ahead. First item on the To Do list: find a gym.