And appropriate end to the photo tour and a lovely vacation, sunset over the river in Florence. Sighhhhh.


Me and my Grandma Ginger in front of the famous Pont Evecio (probably spelled wrong). We enjoyed out wine, classy-bum style, and then went to Cafe Nella's (a little family owned cafe that my Grandma found on a previous trip to Florence) and had delicious, scrumptious food.


Papa John and I at sunset on a bridge over the canal in Florence. Together we hiked to the top of the tallest thing in every city we visited.


The skyline of Florence with the bell tower of the Duomo (decorated in white, pink, and green marble) and me. Taken by the week's official photographer and glass-door-breaker, my Papa John.

A market in Parma with more types of tomatoes than I knew existed!


On the hill of the church in Barga, the little village in Tuscany where my great-grandmother was born.


Me and my Grandma Ginger and Mr. adorably after all the young girls!



The first legal drink anywhere in the world...unfortunately drunk in Italy where people start drinking wine around the age of 11.

Another stunning view of one of the five villages (Vernazza I think). We hiked along the jagged coastline through vineyards and groves of lemon trees to get here, and voila, this view greeted us at the end.

I just love this picture. Also, I think the delicious swordfish I had for my birthday may have been caught by this local fisherman ;)

Ciao!

That along with 'one chocolate gelato please' is, sadly, after two weeks the extent of my Italian. Oh and 'how you are beautiful, beautiful like the earth'...said to me repeatedly by an adorably old cheek-pinching owner of one of the hotels i stayed at.

So, two weeks in Italy (the itenary for those interested: Milan, Lake Como, Cinque Terre, La Spezia, Parma, Lucca, Barga, Florence, Sienna) followed by a two day stint in Paris and a lovely relaxing weekend in Le Mans at Julie's house with her family. And now it's welcome back to the end of the semester, complete with all of the exams, papers, general anxiety, and the usual airborn spring irritant antisness, which is making all of us itch for coming travels...and coming home.

Anyhow, Italy. I think the best thing (unless you want to jump on a plane and fly to France and spend approximately 49.8 hours looking at photos and hearing every funny story aaand tedious detail explained) is to take you all on a whilrwind tour of my trip with pictures and comments. How original! I make no garauntee for the comments, but really, the photos are truly stunning.

(I haven't learned my lesson with this blog yet..so the pictures are in backwards chronological order...if it really matters)


Lauren, me and Julie enjoying a perfect moment.


Manarola at sunset the first night.


The view from the harbor in Manarola, the village where we staying in the Cinque Terre. This is really the color of the Mediterranean Sea, I promise that I didn't use any of my camera's super cool color functions!


Lake Como (30 minutes north of Milan). I took a ferry and hopped from village to village, eating gelato and imagining that every quaint building with a view of the Alps and the lake was a former residence of Hemingway (and tons of other authors and poets who found their inspiration here...not suprising.)



Me on top of the Duomo in Milan. Massively dominating the center of the city, it is the third largest cathedral in the world.



In Milan at a soccer match (crazy!) with Julie's appartment-mate Alessandro, the charmingly quirky screenwriter. Unlike Americans who guzzel beer at sporting events, Italians drink these little espresso-liquor shots. mmmm.



A "to-be-continued-hopefully" blog...I have to dash to grammar class!
(and the weeefeee has stopped working at the house, making things much more complicated...)

bisous
brianne