brain farts

That’s Amore

Posted on: May 13, 2008

I’m in love with Italy. Butterflies-in-your-stomach, mushy-like-a-Hallmark-commercial, head-over-heels kind of in love. That’s the only way I can explain it. The colors feel more vibrant here. Food even tastes better here. Since I’ve arrived, there’s been a smile on my face that I can’t seem to wipe away. Anything seems possible here. There’s always something waiting around the next corner.

Rome was like nothing I’d anticipated; the hundreds of thousands of pictures of the Eternal City never prepared me for the sheer majesty of the real thing. Mass at St. Peter’s Basilica was a deeply personal and profound experience that this sometimes skeptical Catholic will remember forever. The lovely renaissance city of Florence stole my heart, as did the idyllic Mediterranean island of Capri, where the faint scent of lemons and oranges linger with you everywhere you go. Venice deserves all the hype she’s gotten since the days Casanova frolicked through her winding canals. La Serenissima she is sometimes called, and deservedly so; never have I seen her more serene than at the end of the day, when the lights come on and the throng of tourists retreat from the fringes of her shores. Light seems to shine brighter in Venice, glinting off the glimmering black gondolas and casting shadows along the fading terracotta buildings, giving her the famed romantic ambiance she is world-renowned for. An afternoon drive through the gently rolling hills of Tuscany was like driving through a sun-kissed postcard; the image of faded villas dotting the endless expanse of vineyards will forever be imprinted in my mind.

The rumors are true, by the way. The food truly is excellent here, whether it’s vintage red wine at a classy ristorante or a simple slice of pizza Neapolitana from a bustling signora’s trattoria. And of course, as the birthplace of modern fashion, everyone knows how to dress here; old or young, tall or short, fat or thin, everyone knows how to put together an outfit and pull it off with utter elegance and style. And yes, it’s true — the Italian casanovas are abound everywhere, and yes, flirting is just as instinctive to them as breathing is. There have been a few encounters thus far, encounters so outrageous that you know they could never happen anywhere else but in Italy (well, then again, let’s not forget the Italian guy in Phuket who said to me, “Your teeth, they are sexy”). Right now, it’s a cross between a guy who asked to buy me a cup of coffee on the way to Chianciano Terme — and when I refused, he tried to persuade me by saying that we could be soulmates, “like Romeo and Giulietta” (one can’t help but wonder if Italian guys watch a lot of chick flicks) — and a guy who smiled at my (totally unimpressive, totally Asian) chest and commented, “Molto bene.” In other parts of the world that would be harassment; in Italy it’s normal.

Afternoon is time for passeggiata. People gather together in the piazza to admire and to be admired. Buskers provide the background music, singing O Sole Mio and Santa Lucia, much to the delight of the tourists (including yours truly). Children shriek as pigeons swarm them for a quick nibble of their sandwiches, and the elderly come out to share the day’s news. Teenagers delight in the sun, kicking back and working on their tans at the feet of a Vittorio Emanuele monument. Fashionistas breeze through the endless designer shops, dressed like they just came walking off the cover of Vogue. Mother Mary keeps watch over it all; her serene image is everywhere, whether it be at the crossroads of a large intersection or as a hidden shrine tucked away into a worn stone wall. It’s all a photographer’s dream come true. Thousands of photographic opportunities await this amateur, who has been happily snapping away.

La dolce vita, or the sweet life, it is called. And boy, do these Italians know how to live it. They enjoy life here, the simplicity of it, the beauty of it, the sweetness of it. It’s really no wonder at all why I’m so in love with this gorgeous country. Like (my boyfriend) Patrizio Buanne says, that’s amore. :)

I don’t ever want to leave!

9 Responses to "That’s Amore"

“and a guy who smiled at my (totally unimpressive, totally Asian)…..”

What gave you that idea???? I mean the umimpressive=Asian part? or were you refering to his looks?

Uh, I was referring to my flat chest, which obviously isn’t “molto bene”, and the fact that we Asian girls aren’t exactly known for being busty. Sorry if it got misconstrued otherwise?

I can’t say anything about this post because I’ve melted into a big puddle of ENVY. :)

Those pictures are amazing Lynn. It sounds like you had a great time. You deserve it.

Kate, I think my puddle of envy here rivals yours because, hello, you’re going to JAPAN!!

Thanks, James. :) I really did have the best time ever. I always knew I would enjoy my stay in Italy, but never did I imagine it would be that wonderful!

i’m now very jealous… hahaha. :) i luv the pics… and i now wanna go to italy… :) im glad u had a great time there. :)

ARGHHH!!!! So beautiful! And yes, the italian men, they hit on everyone, including my mommy :)

Hey Lynn! It’s been a while since I last visited your website because I thought you’d be busy with 3rd year Dental school and all … glad to know you’re done with that! Now what … 4th year? gosh … does it ever end? haha.

Anyhow, just wanted to say that I’m now officially back in BKK for good … so whenever you return from the heaven that is Italy, I hope to see you around town sometimes. When you’re not too busy cleaning out root canals that is.

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