With two work days off for Easter this year (I haven’t had that many days off for said holiday since grade school) I looked for a way to live it up. Back home this would have meant riding horses the entire long weekend, but the day I realized that trying to recreate the life I had back home in California was asinine was the same day that I started traveling Europe.
I spent the holiday in Rome, eating fabulously, touring ruins, becoming a statue expert, losing fillings riding public transport down cobblestone streets, standing in long lines, learning to push and shove and liking it, attempting to speak Italian, and did I mention, eating fabulously? The Italians are a loud, rowdy, rude, fun, beautiful people, and I even won a few points in town for my last name. A weekend in Rome wouldn’t have been complete without the random stranger headed to church on Easter Sunday who bumped into me at the door of the church and proceeded to ask me all about my entire life in the U.S., including who I might have been hooking up with and how many times per week. Ah yes, and I never even learned how to say “too much information” in Italian.
I’ll update this post once I’ve uploaded the whole gallery.
