Here I am, on Saturday evening, with my bags packed and ready to go and just looking out the window, reminiscing about our first day here, which you see captured above, with Gina jumping from one bail to the other, as one does… Basically, on July 3rd 2013, we landed in paradise, with us and the kids running everywhere as soon as the car parked because we couldn’t actually believe we were going to live here for a while. And live, we did; and eat, we did; and learn Italian we did; and get frustrated by lining up for hours at the Post Office to pay our monthly electric bill with only one window open out of seven because it’s lunch time, we did… But that last one is forgotten today as I look out onto, well, the backyard we were lucky to have for the past two years and I wonder, why am I leaving again?…

Last night, this vineyard‘s proprietor and his family was kind enough to invite me to his home for a wonderful last dinner al fresco, a nice change of pace after two weeks of grueling heatwave. Simple, familiar, familial.


Right outside their house, eating some wicked smoked Scarmoza Burrata (below,) I realized how much they had taken us in, treated us like friends, probably better than friends, guided us through a new culture that, believe or not, is just composed of fascinating history and delicious food. It’s close, but not just…

Smoked Scamorza Burrata

So now here I am, a day later and still dizzy, both from the obscene amount of Sauvignon Blanc drunk only a few hours ago and the butterflies seemingly having an orgy in my stomach. It’s not so much that I am nervous about where we’re going, lord knows that’s what we signed up for, but rather about what we’re leaving behind, these wonderful people, this wonderful house in this wonderful country, if you don’t count the post office. I will miss this fantasy a lot but onto the next one… Plane takes off tomorrow at noon and I shall see you on the other side.

2 Comments Leave a reply

  1. Fran

    You will be back…you have Italy in your blood, you have made roots here, you belong to this place. I wonder why we were not all born Italian!
    This experience traveling the world, will make you miss these hours on line at the post office, where everyone is getting exited like in a Fellini’s film, you will miss your everyday trip to buy fresh burrata and mortadella and spend sometime tasting cheese at the local macelleria….
    But you will be back….in two years…it will be a different task…coming back to US..unless you change your mind….
    In the meantime, Bon voyage
    Arrivederci Bologna


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