I visited Italy recently, and felt like I was coming home.
There are certain places in the world where we end up and our soul sighs; a recognition and peace settle over you, as if you were there before. Cape May is a small beach town at the tip of the Jersey shore I travel to regularly that feels like this. And so is Italy.
My son is currently studying abroad for college in Florence. Since my other son is a senior in high school, I decided to take him out of school early to can embark on a family trip. And though the travel was rough –9 hour plane ride, 2 hour train ride, JFK traffic, delays, long walks to the hotel dragging oversize luggage—it was worth it.
Florence is a city stuffed with art and history; a zig zag of narrow cobblestone streets that lead to hidden delights that would take a lifetime to explore. Our hotel was right by the massive Duomo, a giant gorgeous cathedral that seemed to overtake the horizon no matter where you looked. It was our true north and the direction that pointed to our temporary home.
I hadn’t seen my son in three months – the longest I’ve been without him. As he greeted us at the train station, emotion overwhelmed me. How had he changed and grown so much without me? He emanated an easy confidence I hadn’t seen before. His clothes were more stylish. He’d gotten taller, I swear! It was a joy and bittersweet to watch your child thrive away from you and I’m so grateful he worked hard to contend for one of the spots overseas to study film.
We had some adventurous experiences while we were there. We drove Vespas through the Chianti vineyards, speeding over rolling hills while the gorgeous scenery dropped us right into a movie or romance novel.
Like one I wrote. Hello, Secret Love Letters of Olivia Moretti!
We drank wine in a castle and visited an olive oil farm. Hello, To Sicily with Love.
We visited Venice and drifted down the canals in a gondola. Hello, Our Italian Summer.
We headed to Pisa and Lucca, and immersed ourselves in exploring trattorias and unique shops filled with curated items, taking breaks for pizza and wine. Hello, A Wedding in Lake Como.
But most of all, we resettled into simply being a family having fun. Sharing experiences we’d never forget. Laughing at the ups and downs and in betweens of travel.
It poured rain one day and we ended up splashing in puddles and getting drenched while visiting a chocolate festival. We bought an extra umbrella from a vendor, then got feasted on truffles that melted and danced in our mouth. We sought shelter in a dark pub that was also a record store, eating pizza and drinking wine.
My son showed us the famous window where he got melons thrown at him for talking too loud in the square at night. Yes, it seems my family heritage of Italians can be a cranky bunch with young Americans, but even worse? It happened while I was on the phone with him, and then again two weeks later. He now avoids that spot when talking on the phone to his family and friends too late at night. Here’s a pic of his comical imitation of the crime spot.
The week passed much too fast, but when I arrived back home, tucked away in my safe office where I spend the bulk of my time, I, too, was changed.
Experiences do that. In order to be the best type of writers, we need to venture out for those adventures.
So, what did I learn to bring back to the office?
Don’t Plan Everything. Half of the fun was getting into messes, figuring stuff out, and laughing. We almost missed our train because we couldn’t figure out the platform situation. My husband’s luggage wheel fell off from the crooked pavement and then it wouldn’t fit in the elevator so he had to drag it up three flights of stairs.
Things don’t have to be perfect but we figure them out. Some are learning lessons. Other moments add to our life story—like finding out my son had done some questionable things one night at a bar with his friends. I wasn’t happy but the story was hysterical. I’m still giggling even as I disciplined. Hearing about it at the scene of the crime was so much better than hearing years later at a holiday dinner!
We stumbled on the best shops and gelato by chance. Plans are great, but sometimes ditching them is even better.
Pay Attention: This is one of my lessons I teach new writers over and over. Travel is about paying attention because everything is new. But if you bring that child’s mind back to the page? Your stories will shine brighter. You will be ready to handle surprise characters, plot twists, blocks, and stumbling. Attention is not only critical nowadays in this time of AI and endless scrolling—it’s needed to SEE the bigger picture.
I didn’t duck my head and bury myself in my phone when I was away. Videos and pics were great, but I didn’t allow them to BE my experience. Most of the time, I sensed it was more powerful to experience things in the moment then record them forever.
Why?
Because it makes it that much more precious. You can’t hold it forever, just like a beautiful moment. So let’s be in it more rather than a witness behind a phone camera.
Be Grateful: Yep, isn’t it awful I threw this one in? Like #blessed. But honestly? It’s the truth. It’s important for a reason. I saw sights that brought tears to my eyes. While we were riding Vestas together as stunning scenery rolled by us, my heart actually hurt. I threw up a prayer of gratitude. I thought: my life is insane.
But guess what? I also remember thinking the same thing when I had no money, and my kids were in diapers, and we managed to save endlessly to go to Sesame Street Place for the day. They ate overpriced chicken fingers on Elmo plates and we got sunburnt watching the parade but all I remember is feeling giddy that I got to be with Big Bird and my boys.
I recognize how lucky I am all the time – even with the hard stuff. And believe me, bad shit happens to everyone. We all take our turns. This isn’t some woo woo fake be grateful speech. Because I’m telling you – it really works. It raises our energy and makes life better.
And yeah, writing is hard, and this career is hard, and trying to make a living writing is really hard – but I’m grateful because I no longer have to do customer service insurance and get yelled at people and drive four hours a day while studying for my master’s degree and having two babies.
God. I’m so grateful.
That’s it. I’m off to write and dream about Italy. Hopefully my son won’t be hit with a melon this week.
Sesame Street was fun. Especially my granddaughter and Cookie Monster. He washer favorite. From there it was on to Harrisburg and the park there