Before I left for my trip to Italy, I swore to myself and all TSL followers that I would write in a journal each day about my experiences abroad. I don't know why I thought I would have any time to do this though. The good news is, it's all still so fresh in my mind and I have some beautiful pictures of places, people, and yummy food to help jog my memory if necessary. :] I plan to write over the next several days about my trip, so I won't be disclosing everything about the best two weeks of my life all in this one post.
My journey started in Boston on July 1st. Upon boarding my plane, the butterflies started to flutter. It was starting to almost feel real. I knew I got myself to this point, but how it all happened so quickly was still a mystery to me. It was a very long flight to Rome- very long and hungry. I knew I wasn't going to be eating any of the airplane food and with good reason. When I saw what they served for dinner and breakfast on the plane, my hunger began to dull and morphed into nausea. I don't know how people could eat that food and actually look like they were enjoying it. You can't even call it food, really. I sat there feeling queazy with my banana chips, almonds, sunflower & pumpkin seeds, and homemade GF cinnamon crackers while everyone else ate fake food. I had packed a baggie of backup snacks for each day to stabilize my blood sugar, but couldn't bring myself to even look at the snacks I ate on the plane during my trip. As it turned out, it wouldn't be necessary anyway. I would dine without shame for the next 12 days.
My journey started in Boston on July 1st. Upon boarding my plane, the butterflies started to flutter. It was starting to almost feel real. I knew I got myself to this point, but how it all happened so quickly was still a mystery to me. It was a very long flight to Rome- very long and hungry. I knew I wasn't going to be eating any of the airplane food and with good reason. When I saw what they served for dinner and breakfast on the plane, my hunger began to dull and morphed into nausea. I don't know how people could eat that food and actually look like they were enjoying it. You can't even call it food, really. I sat there feeling queazy with my banana chips, almonds, sunflower & pumpkin seeds, and homemade GF cinnamon crackers while everyone else ate fake food. I had packed a baggie of backup snacks for each day to stabilize my blood sugar, but couldn't bring myself to even look at the snacks I ate on the plane during my trip. As it turned out, it wouldn't be necessary anyway. I would dine without shame for the next 12 days.
When I landed in Rome I had to get to my gate for my connecting flight to Milan. I was so at peace when I landed- exhausted and tired, but completely at peace. I was so relaxed for someone who was a first time international traveler with little knowledge of the Italian language and understanding of how to navigate an airport. My soul felt at home. Everything was right in my world from the moment I landed. It's a feeling I can't describe and will never forget. Once I arrived in Milan I was greeted by my tour director, Mike, who we would all come to love dearly and call "Miguel" for the remainder of the trip. He was such a great tour director and an all-around wonderful person at that. I met up with everyone in my group at the airport. Well, almost everyone- Kevin didn't meet up with us until that night.
We spent the afternoon walking around in Milan taking in the sights and anxiously awaiting our arrival to the hotel. I hadn't eaten in over 24 hours and I was on the verge of eating the pavement, truly. We finally settled in at an outdoor cafe, where I was sure to find some gluten free food. Just kidding. Remember that time I said that, "all food establishments in Italy are required to serve gluten free foods?" Well, that doesn't mean that they all serve gluten free pastas, breads, etc. My research had deceived me and the bowl of real-life bread on the table was turning me on. My motto for this trip from that point on was, "fuck it- I'm in Italy." Yes, I dove into that basket of bread and enjoyed every sinful second of it. I ordered a caprese salad with buffalo mozzarella and I nearly ascended straight into Heaven right then and there.
We spent the afternoon walking around in Milan taking in the sights and anxiously awaiting our arrival to the hotel. I hadn't eaten in over 24 hours and I was on the verge of eating the pavement, truly. We finally settled in at an outdoor cafe, where I was sure to find some gluten free food. Just kidding. Remember that time I said that, "all food establishments in Italy are required to serve gluten free foods?" Well, that doesn't mean that they all serve gluten free pastas, breads, etc. My research had deceived me and the bowl of real-life bread on the table was turning me on. My motto for this trip from that point on was, "fuck it- I'm in Italy." Yes, I dove into that basket of bread and enjoyed every sinful second of it. I ordered a caprese salad with buffalo mozzarella and I nearly ascended straight into Heaven right then and there.
We got to our hotel, which would be one of the nicest hotels we would stay in. After some much needed rest and a shower to wash off the "airplane," it was time to head to dinner. As it was, I was already on a roll with my food selections earlier in the afternoon. I knew that lunch was just a foreshadowing of what was to come. Boy, was I right on the money. No sooner did the waitress slap this puppy on the table did I know that all bets were off. Fuck it, I'm in Italy. That bread was absolutely delicious. The only thing that I could pair such a lovely puffy bubble of bread with would be my own personal pizza covered in roasted eggplant, zucchini, and onions, right? Correct. I was ruthless and no one was going to stop me. In fact, I spent those beautiful 12 days with a bunch of enablers. I love them all though, and they were always checking in on me to see how I was feeling. Throughout my trip, I was 100% symptom free. I've always preached about the mind-body connection. My experience in Italy is proof of this. I was the happiest I've ever been in my life and my body was digging those happy vibes, too.
As you can see from the photos below, I have no shame. Click on each for a large view of this spectacle.
As you can see from the photos below, I have no shame. Click on each for a large view of this spectacle.
It didn't stop there, though. In fact, it continued for the rest of my trip. But even after making half of a pizza my bitch, I needed more. ["we want more, we want more...like you really like it, we want more."] So it's only appropriate that half a pizza and two glasses of wine later, I found my way to the gelato counter. It wasn't difficult. It was here that I learned one of the most important Italian phrases I would use throughout the duration of my trip: "un cono con due gusti per favore." Always a cone with two flavors- preferably nocciola e caffe o coco (hazelnut and coffee or coconut). It was absolutely delicious. I got mine for free and told the guy I loved him in Italian. Or at least I think it was Italian- I said it in Spanish with the hope that the words mean the same thing. I did love him. I loved everyone. I loved everything I was feeling, seeing, eating, taking in, and learning. This was la bella vita and it was only the beginning.
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