I can’t pinpoint one thing exactly that made leaving Borgo Argenina and Tuscany so hard. As I’m sure you’ve read from my many posts about it, you can gather it was many things: the beautiful scenery and nature, the food, the experience. It was Elena making you feel at home and comfortable and welcome, and showing you the most amazing few days. Leaving made me feel like I was leaving summer camp. I had the teary eyes and that feeling in my stomach – hard to explain, but a sad feeling. Because being there had done something to me and for me. Like I said, it’s hard to explain just what. But it was something. Like summer camp does. Maybe it’s being in nature. Being in the middle of nowhere. Making connections, and feeling like you’ve known your whole life, people you’ve just met. Feeling like you’ve found a second home in the hills of Tuscany. Being out there I didn’t think about the breast cancer or my upcoming surgery. We were just there. I haven’t been JUST ANYWHERE in a really long time.
It’s not that I wasn’t in reality while at Borgo Argenina; it’s that Borgo Argenina was a special type of reality. It was real and we were in the world, but it was a different world. One you only dream about. One you see when you close your eyes. Or one you’ve never even imagined before, because it’s too beautiful to imagine. So maybe I’ll never know the exact reasons why leaving that place was so hard. It just was.
But along to Rome we went, and crammed a lot into a day and a half! We saw Vatican City and the Vatican, went inside the Sistine Chapel, and saw the coliseum. Though we weren’t allowed to take pictures inside the Sistine Chapel, I can tell you it was quite an experience. You look up at the ceiling and you’re mesmerized. The colors and detail are out of this world. It’s truly spectacular, truly breath-taking.
Rome was as busy and bustling as Paris, but in a different way. There was still the traffic coming from all different directions, the women on their bikes and mopeds in high heels. The cafes with the tables outside pointing towards the street.
By the middle of day two in Rome, Sean and I were so tired we decided to take the rest of the day “off.” Sean did some work from the hotel room and I went down to the pool. Laying in the sun and dipping into the cool refreshing water, even if only for an hour, was enough to refresh me. I came back to the room, took a shower and a nap, and was ready for the evening.
That night was our last night in Rome. Our last night in Europe. Our last day of our honeymoon. I always dread the “last” of vacations and trips. Sure, I was (kind of) ready to get back to and back into my normal routine, but leaving a place like Europe, is, as you could imagine, hard. I had gotten used to the amazing food and outrageous scenery, and learning about the people and the culture. Every day was a new adventure. We’d pack our backpacks, lace up our sneakers, and take on the day. Snapping 200-plus new pictures, and then posting them to Facebook that night. Each day was new food and new experiences and new memories.
So because I always dread the last day of a trip, I always picture myself at my worst at the end of it. I know it sounds silly and stupid, but when I dread something, I sometimes ruin things for myself because I’m so set on being miserable and sad I forget to actually enjoy the moment I have left. However, this wasn’t the case during our last night in Rome. I had a natural glow from the pool and the sun and my nap, and I felt more beautiful than ever that last night. As we walked around town near our hotel to pass the time before the restaurants opened for dinner, I glanced at myself in the mirrors and reflections in the stores: I looked tan, happy. I was wearing my long white skirt, and had my pink straw and gold purse – one I had bought for Israel a few years ago.
I felt honeymoon-y. I knew it was our last night and I knew we had to get back to reality. No more wine every night and pastries every morning. (not if I wanted to fit into all my clothes, anyway!) We had seen all we could have seen, done all we could have done. Experienced it all. Filled up our days – our two weeks that FLEW by – with everything I could have ever wanted: culture, food, history, scenery. In Paris, tasting a crepe from a vendor on the street and drinking espresso at a street corner café was just as important to me as climbing the Eiffel Tower and seeing the Palace of Versailles.
In Tuscany I wanted to taste the wine and cook a real Italian dinner, but also see the little towns of Siena and Radda.
In Rome I wanted to see the Coliseum and the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel – look with my very eyes at the beautiful colors, but also taste the pizza.
I wanted to have long, deep talks with Sean during dinner, but also sit silently on the metro. I wanted to laugh with him at our caricature. Be there with him as he tasted chocolate gelati that was “out of this world.” Discover pici with him. Figure out that “osteria” means restaurant. Be with him for all the adventures – even the tiny ones, like where we followed a local man in Toscano to his own private winery after we asked him where we could find “vino.”
Europe and our honeymoon was special for many reasons. I saw Europe for the first time. Saw the people and places I only dreamed about. Tasted apricots from the trees, climbed 700 steps, ordered food from a menu without knowing what it was. It was the trip and the experience of a lifetime. But what makes it most special is that I did it with Sean. We had that experience of a lifetime together.
I may have cried when we left Borgo Argenina. I may miss French pastries. I may wish I could drink espresso at 3 p.m. or wine at noon. But my real life, at home with Sean and Campbell, is just as magical and special, if not more.
Europe made me glow. Our honeymoon made me glow. But it’s being in love, and having that love grow every day, that keeps me glowing and keeps me growing.
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