Plus one solo in Europe

November - December 2023
Travel. Not to find yourself. But to discover who you've been all along. Norway - England - Belgium - Germany - Austria - Italy - Switzerland - France - Turkey - Greece - Cyprus - Egypt. Read more
  • 41footprints
  • 15countries
  • 36days
  • 561photos
  • 33videos
  • 46.9kkilometers
  • 39.0kkilometers
  • Day 23

    Greece. Crete and Christening Crashing.

    November 25, 2023 in Greece ⋅ ⛅ 19 °C

    Sometimes the best days happen because they're not planned. The spontaneity eliminates expectations; and today was a shining example of how glad I am to not have planned detail to the minutiae on this incredible voyage.

    I'm sleeping a lot. Acknowledging my body may also be demanding recoup after the calamitous pace of the journey so far. I'm listening. I'm grateful. The late nights and sips are a version of me I no longer recognise. I now demand solitude. Movies. An occasional wine. Herbal tea and early nights. The bartender closest to my room knows my order well. A pina colada. No alcohol. A pineapple coconut slushie really. Early nights and Netflix.

    I'd researched a little (in fairness, only in the previous days), what Heraklion (Crete), Greece had to offer and was reminded of one of the few history lessons I recall being interested in. The mythological story of Theseus and the Minotaur, based in crete, captivated the 14 year old in me. I wasn't able to honour this history lesson, though today's adventures filled my heart in a way Mrs Maggs (sorry, we once referred to her as Mrs Scraggs) my year 7 & 8 history teacher never could.

    I met Ian and Annie the moment I boarded this cruise. I decided after my tribulations in Istanbul that morning, and desire for a lengthy afternoon siesta, a red with lunch was the order of the day. I met Ian as he heard my Aussie accent ordering such red. "How typical! An Aussie at the bar!". My reply of "Get f*cked!" Aussie slang for I see you too bro, cemented our friendship.

    I commenced this morning not knowing what I was capable of. No plans in place. I met Ian in the corridors after breakfast. He had planned to explore Crete in the exact way I'd mentally pieced together, and we agreed to meet at 10am. Disembark. And see what eventuated.

    For some context, Ian is close to one of the most empathic, kind, hilarious people I've met in my time on this planet. Top of the corporate game, he gave it all up to care for his sister, who'd been disabled after an MVA in the prime of her life.

    His compassion, wit and hilarity is contagious. A story for context:

    Ian: I've done a lot of cruises and noticed on all the cruise itineraries a daily meeting for Bill W. I thought. Who is this Bill W and why is he on every cruise I book? I attended the meeting one day, curious to know who Bill W is /was. Drink in hand, I walk in. Late. All eyes on me. And the next person stands. Introduces themselves. Hi. I'm Bob. I'm an addict of 7 years and... IT WAS / IS an AA / NA meeting. Ian attended with drink in hand 🤣🤣, completely unawares. And made a quick exit shortly thereafter.

    Our morning in Crete was as equally hilarious. We wandered. Dined. We found ourselves in the oldest restaurant in Crete and enjoyed fine Greek tea. Pastries. Ice cream.

    We shopped. I tried on a lux Euro jacket and purchased a handheld "Looking Cute" handheld mirror to take the p*ss out of ourselves and the many tour directors holding up similar placards.

    The highlight of our day was crashing a Christening. Little Eggapai (that's our name for her) enjoyed a few tourists in the church. We were kind enough to donate for our prayers. We are planning on crashing a wedding sometime tomorrow.

    Another unexpectedly perfect day with new friends.

    Antio sas Crete, from some Aussie Cretins.
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  • Day 24

    We're on the Rhodes to Nowhere

    November 26, 2023, Eastern Mediterranean ⋅ 🌬 18 °C

    Rhodes, Greece. A lovely day was planned sightseeing this ancient Greek city today, though Poseidon, God of the sea, had other plans.

    The swells made docking at port impossible. Sales of motion sickness tablets on-board soared with the crests of the waves. I myself had a rough morning.

    I'd purchased paracetamol in Crete yesterday, and took a dose before bed last night. I laid awake most of the night. Not unwell. Not feeling tired. And worked out at 5am I'd taken the Greek equivalent of Panadol Extra. Paracetamol + Caffeine. At least I had reason and planned my 4pm bedtime after a day of exploration.

    Over breakfast, the announcement was made. We'd be missing this port.

    I decided today was my day! I can get a really long run in and smash some goals! I can catch up with an at sea day! I'd not however considered the combined forces of treadmill running in high seas combined with burgeoning seasickness myself.

    I managed to run 4.5km over 2 sessions (hanging on for dear life at some points), a 2 hour nap and a 6pm bedtime in hopes tomorrow, we can dock at Alanya, Turkey, and that the seas settle for the sake of all on board.

    A day of rainbows at least to bring some cheer.
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  • Day 25

    Alanya. Turkey. Yeah. Nah.

    November 27, 2023 in Turkey ⋅ ☀️ 13 °C

    I woke early in hopes to beat the rough seas and get a decent run complete before the treadmill evacuated me. I'd set my alarm for 0430, noting I'd lose an hour with time zone change. I was on ships WiFi with zero automated clock updates.

    I woke to my alarm and the seas were still very rough. I decided to return to slumber. Commit to my shore excursion and run in the afternoon. I'm so glad I did. We didn't/ couldn't dock. I call bullsh*t as I've seen rougher toddler pools in Australia, but who am I to argue with the commercial realities vs mother nature of a cruise line.

    I looked longingly at the shore I'd not get to explore. The ancient stalactite / stalagmite cave excursion I'd booked that would not be. I remembered my Dad. His lessons on rock and mineral formation. And the wonder I'd held at the Geological world he seemed to know so intimately. I was dismayed. And caged.

    F*ck you I decided. Today. I will not have cabin fever. I have slept. I have energy. And this sh*t needs discharging.

    I harnessed my energy. I was wound up and ready! I walked. I ran. I wanted 50k steps today to diffuse and hit a personal goal. I managed 45,000ish and an 18km run. My longest ever.

    I packed more into today than a human being should. 38km on foot. A massage. I finished the evening with a beautiful Teppanyaki dinner with Ian and Annie, and a show. Hypnotist Christopher Caress. I volunteered as tribute. I made it through the selection round and was asked to leave the stage as I could not be put into a state of sleep. Sums up my life to date. Apparently I'm resistive to hypnosis. I'm resistive to trusting a showman on a cruiseship, though the 8 remaining on stage seemed in a powerful trance.

    I wish I could be hypnotised. How wonderful the power of suggestion would be. I'll keep on trying.

    Onwards to Limassol, Cyprus, with no expectations we'll be able to dock.

    I'll have a Netty day if we don't.
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  • Day 26

    Limassol, Cyprus. Greece and Turkey meld

    November 28, 2023 in Cyprus ⋅ ☀️ 13 °C

    We actually docked today. Limassol, Cyprus. After a mammoth day yesterday, today's pace was glacial by comparison.

    The highlights of my day were connecting with loved ones back home. Seeing photos of my eldest son Jay and his partner, Jordan's brand new home. I am so proud of how much they've sacrificed to achieve their dream. Chats with family. Reminders of how beautiful home really is.

    I disembarked with low expectations of this city. I attempted to immerse myself as I usually do in the culture. I walked a lot. Found a small Cafe and ordered a traditional Cypriot Coffee. Strong. Black. Bitter. It's not my favourite; though when in Rome. Or Cyprus.

    Knowing the predominantly Greek cultural influences of Cyprus, I dined on Moussaka. The Cafe was empty. I felt this may be a tourist Cafe, serving westernised versions rather than traditional Cypriot fare, though I gave it a go. Hoping I wouldn't be paying for a serving of salmonella.

    It was served piping hot. A good start. It was tasty, but not the delicious moussaka's I've had in times gone by. Made with pork mince. Not the traditional lamb or vegetarian variants I've enjoyed previously in Melbourne, or I add with arrogance, have made myself.

    I did enjoy a beautiful black cherry and blackberry frozen yogurt. Delicious.

    I explored a little. I even found the correct bus route back to the cruise terminal. I didn't attain consent from the bus driver to upload this video, though he did not speak English, and spoke on the phone the entire journey. 🙄.

    I returned to the ship at time of posting with plans of nana napping and movies. It's all about balance after all, and I'm conserving my energy. For tomorrow. I'm off to explore one of the worlds seven wonders. The pyramids of Egypt.

    We'd better be able to dock.
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  • Day 27

    Egypt. The pyramids and pyramid schemes

    November 29, 2023 in Egypt ⋅ ☀️ 16 °C

    Egypt. Ra, Egyptian God of the Sun ruled today. I woke early and captured a beautiful sunrise over Alexandria. We docked at approximately 0800. A 5km run. Breakfast, before joining a very long day tour to Cairo to explore the Great Pyramids of Giza and the Giza plateau.

    I wanted to write a gushing post about Egypt. One of the 7 wonders! The incredible feats of architecture defying the laws of physics and human strength. Built without machinery - at least not powered. Levers. Fulcrums. I'm taken back to the mechanics of human movement and concede how incredible it is these pyramids exist.

    But Egypt. Do you judge a destination on how it makes you feel? I'm of the opinion (worldly as I am now), that it is the sum of all parts. Is it fair to judge a destination on a visit in one day? Perhaps not, though some of what I observed are not an assumption of culture based on a single interaction with any one person today. It was the roads. The traffic. Chaotic drivers and lack of road rules. Soaring pyramids surrounded by stray dogs seeking a meal. It's the magnificent ancient pyramids with rubbish and cigarette butts in piles. It's the master hustlers. The only time I've been at risk overseas I feel was today. Picked off the pack. A narrow escape. The overwhelming feeling of disrespect.

    Our tour guide proudly proclaimed on our trip they don't have any homelessness as they look after their families in Egypt. They don't have insurance as they don't need it. She said it with pride, not meant as an insult, but I observed ghetto like living conditions and exploitation of children peddling wares, weaving amongst traffic and felt her comment reeked of arrogance.

    No homelessness? I interpret that statement to mean no mental health issues. Bullsh*t. No insurance? What of the poor families disproportionately impacted by accident or a congenital bad hand? Perhaps her sentiment is everything I see as wrong in this region of the world.

    Egypt left me feeling more homesick than I ever have on this journey, though I'll summarise my day.

    Giza Plateau:
    When I say pyramids, I feel specificity is important. Our Egyptian tour guide, aptly named Bella (she was beautiful) informed us there are 118 Pyramids in total in Egypt.

    Bella explained the Pyramids are houses for the next phase of life, and that Egyptian's have no belief in death, it's merely a transition from your short life on earth to an eternal afterlife.

    I'm not sure if she was referring to ancient Egyptians only. More research required. Note to self. Binge watch Indiana Jones and Night at the museum once more. I digress.

    Egypt really is something else. I've seen a total of 16 countries this year, and have not witnessed anything quite like Egypt. The traffic. The drivers. It's as though there are no road laws. Our coach had police traffic escorts x 2! The car in the attached picture passed us right by, Ute tray filled with passengers.

    It's a certainty the saying "Stay in your lane" does not exist here, as nobody did! You simply use your horn when someone weaves in front of you, and expect the same in return. I doubt anyone even pays attention to the beeping horn anymore.

    The hustlers were next level. The coach had barely moved into park and they swamped. Begging you to buy their wares. Take their photo. They are relentless. We are instructed to not make eye contact or respond. I wish I'd recalled those instructions when an "official" castigated me for being off path. A narrow escape.

    Our first option on arrival was to ride a camel a short way through the Sahara desert. I met my camel. Charlie Brown was his name, so my camel guide, Mohammed tells me. Why does every bloke in Egypt so far have the same name?

    I'm grateful for my strength as I (Mounted? it really sounds like I'm being inappropriate 🤷 🤣) Charlie and rode in a caravan (that's the term for an attached procession), with my new friend Kevin from Texas, and his camel, Michael Jackson.

    We then explored the pyramids. The great sphinx of Giza. Attended a lesson on papyrus paper.

    I'd not planned my day very well and not eaten adequately, especially given I'd run earlier. Our buffet lunch? 4pm. An 8 hour fast was not in my plans.

    A mammoth day and 8pm return to the ship.

    We are in Alexandria, Egypt another day though I'm choosing to stay on the ship. I'm dismayed at the disrespect given to these ancient wonders by the Egyptian people. The exploitation. The filth.

    I've never missed the smell of the Australian Bush more than I do right now. We live in paradise. I'll console myself with Vegemite, hugs from loved ones and my Ferdie when I get home.

    Egypt and the great pyramids. One of the 7 wonders. You'll wonder why you came.
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  • Day 30

    Siracusa, Sicily. I see you Mt Etna

    December 2, 2023 in Italy ⋅ ☁️ 21 °C

    Buongiorno from Sicilia. With Egypt in the rear view mirror, possibly (definitely) my middle finger/s raised, both hands, we cross the Mediterranean over 36ish hours to arrive in Italy once again. For me, anyhow. Siracusa, Sicily.

    Picture this...Sicily. 2023. I am, of course, referencing Sophia from The Golden Girls. I don't need to picture it, Ma. I'm here. Our arrival coincides with the eruption of Mt Etna, just under 100km away. I really do know how to bring the action.

    I chose a tour to match my energy levels today, a serene boat cruise of Ortiga Bay. I even find my perfect mode to enjoy this stunning afternoon. A hammock. I request service of wine and peeled grapes as the hammock gently rocks on the harbour, though not a one obeys my commands. I must work on my leadership style. Authoritive / dictatorial was needed for today.

    With the smog from the erupting Mount Etna filling the sky, I'm in awe of the power (and fury) of mother nature.

    The harbour cruise concludes, and I find a quaint waterfront cafe and order the gelati I've waited so long to enjoy. In Italy. I select three scoops. Traditional limone (🍋), a melon (canteloupe), and a black cherry ice cream 🍒). It is as superb as the weather. I can taste a cantaloupe so perfectly ripe. I remember how good a good canteloupe can be. My heart is as full as my tummy.

    The last few days have been tough. My visit to Egypt saw me in a really vulnerable position, and I was afraid. I'm newly accustomed to facing the fear, being brave, and doing it anyway. It's the mode that's gotten me through this incredibly difficult year. What has seen me travelling the world solo, though, always after a healthy risk assessment. In Egypt, I saw some of the worst traits in human nature. Greed. Exploitation. Contempt. Utter filth. I questioned myself and my ability to assess risk. I'll never return to Egypt.

    But Italy. Graci. For your incredible beauty. Your people, brimming with kindness. Humility. Pride. A zest for life and food filled with a Nonna's love. My faith in human nature rekindled. My soul filled with gratitude once more.

    A 6km ish run to conclude the day with a fancy Italian dinner. I dine alone with low expectations a cruise ship fancy Italian restaurant can deliver the Italian goods. The food is good, though home cooked Aussie Mum good and the lasagne is luke warm. (#mineisbetter). I look forward to more dining experiences in Italy over the remaining 5 days of my trip.

    Graci Italia. Graci.
    Onwards to Pompeii.
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  • Day 31

    Naples. Sorrento. Pompeii and penises.

    December 3, 2023 in Italy ⋅ ⛅ 12 °C

    A most anticipated destination of my trip. Naples. Mt Vesuvius, and the ancient ruins of Pompeii.

    This post may be NSFW (not safe for work) 🔞 🤣.

    I disembark after a morning debrief with Ian. G'day mate exchanges and all that. I join a tour for the day to explore seaside Sorrento with a cheese making class and farm to plate lunch. It is spectacular, and I take note to source some rennet once I'm home. Imma gonna make a the mozzarella like a Nonna. I've made ricotta before. I'm excited, though, must show restraint as my love for cheese is eternal.

    I happen upon a jazz band in the streets of Sorrento and am swept away by the zest for life Italians have. Their joy is contagious. I wonder if I'm viewing Italy through holiday mode, or if everyone is just happy because they enjoy their caffeine and carbs! I think their antidote is walking everywhere. I do that a lot, too, and pray my final week in Italy is not the final week my beloved Levis will fit. I must keep up my running.

    We arrive at Pompeii, Mt. Vesuvius, peeking behind. This ancient city is a sight to behold, and the preservation of these ruins is meticulous. Take note, Egypt. Take note.

    We amble through the streets and learn the history of Pompeii from our tour guide Luigi (why are all Italian men Luigi? I note with humour, our coach driver is named Mario. Of course!).

    We begin in downtown Pompeii and explore what once were shop fronts. A wood fired oven for baking bread, long before the blessed union of tomatoes and cheese for the pizza. We explore the baths with gymnasium arenas. Work out, then bathe. Opulent and ingenious. Led pipes for heated water. Sculpted walls to ensure condensation is channelled. I am in awe of the ingenuity in a city progressively constructed from 7-6 centuries BC.

    We move on to the seedier parts of town and are led through a brothel. I'm happy to share that it is my first ever visit to one. Luigi explains the sea faring visitors to Pompeii came (pun intended) from other countries and the languages not universal. This was solved with a painted 'menu' of the available services. Positions. Progressive indeed.

    I note the beds in each "boudoir" are carved rocks. I suspect they were shrouded in animal hair or skin for comfort, though my very Australian humour is lost in translation when I proclaim, "That's a whole new meaning to getting hard!", and I'm met with awkward stares.

    We continue through to view some mummified human remains. It's easy to disconnect what you are viewing through the glass, though I take a moment to imagine the terror of this monumental tragedy.

    It is at this moment the masses of cheese I'd enjoyed at lunch did their thing and I need to fart. I sneak off to a corner. Relieve myself. Luigi, at that exact moment, begins to explain that the deaths of the people of Pompeii were caused by toxic gas, and the group move through the (what I thought was private) area I'd chosen. I've added a sensory dimension without meaning to. #sorry #weallfart.

    We continue through the streets of ancient Pompeii, and Luigi points out the penis carvings in the volcanic rock roads. There are many! He explains it is (was) to ensure any visitors could follow the carvings to find the brothel. Important they knew where to get their rocks off. From carved cocks. In rocks.

    I wasn't expecting a reminder today that prostitution is indeed the oldest industry. I expected a conservative Catholic Italy.

    I declined purchase of penis magnets to commemorate my visit.
    I do purchase a cappuccino on departure. I sip, expecting the gorgeous Italian coffee I've enjoyed to date. It's too hot. My throat is burned. And I think of course. Pompeii. Lava. Of course. Touche.

    Our final day on the cruise. Onwards to Rome and my accommodation near the Vatican. I may need to repent after a day of immoral history.
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  • Day 32

    Roaming in Rome.

    December 4, 2023 in Italy ⋅ ☁️ 5 °C

    I am rushed off the ship this morning. Bombarded with announcements from the cruise director Aisha. Elisha. Alannah. I don't really care to recall her name as she made no lasting impression other than her fake performances undone by her complete lack of engagement with any cruisers. I think I've also woken on the wrong side of the bed, in the right city. Right country.

    I wished I'd booked a hotel transfer, though I do eventually manage to sardine myself in the middle bucket seat of a mini van en route to Rome after being evacuated without consult from the first taxi I was allocated. I arrive at my hotel. I was delighted to find a room located near the Vatican for the balance of my trip for the princely sum of $320 AUD. For 3 nights.

    I'm perhaps lucky it's not worse given how little I've paid. Though. It's very. Very. Purple. Shower in the room. I think it's really a porn set. Shower in main room and a very uncomfortable bed. I diligently inspect for bed bugs. No evidence yet and I am hopeful.

    I venture out for coffee. Intravenously preferred. And pizza. The four formaggio is my pizza of choice. It is. Exquisite. I have never tasted a pizza so delicious. Over the course of the afternoon, I consume the entire pizza. I console myself with reminders of its thin crust, reducing the net carbs and planned long run tomorrow.

    I siesta. Then shop. I purchase the Italian leather boots I'd promised myself. Lucky me, they're 20% off if you buy 2 pairs. I cannot refuse a deal like that. An Italian cashmere coat. More caffeine. A quaint vegan Cafe. More food.

    I promised myself to enjoy every bite when in the food Mecca of the world. And I intend to.

    I connect with Ian. Without question, the best tour guide I've ever encountered, and one of the most wonderful human beings I've met on the planet. We explore Rome together at night on foot. St Peter's square. Italian Parliament. We find a merry go round and engage our inner children. We visit the fountain of Trevi and throw our coins as is custom. Each coin, tossed one at a time, right hand throwing over left shoulder. The first guarantees a repeat visit to the city; the second means a love affair, and the third means a wedding.

    Our wishes made. Our hearts full after our first day in Rome, we fill our bellies with Italian pasta. Spag Bol for me. It is delicious. I arrogantly add, not as good as mine. I do set a high standard, though.

    I'm off to tour the Vatican tomorrow. Hoping for a perve at the statue of David. Italy is full of phallic references.
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  • Day 33

    Vatican City. Religion and more Penis'

    December 5, 2023 in Vatican City ⋅ 🌧 11 °C

    I suspect it's the carbs. It surely isn't the bed as I can feel the springs poking through. Though I slept. I would've continued to sleep too if not for the lightning and thunder that woke me at 0900. Over 10 solid hours.

    Much needed as I had an appointment at The Vatican. I rush to get ready. Small breakfast and brave the rains in Rome on foot. I meet at arranged time and enjoy (endure?) a 3 hour tour of The Vatican Museum, The Sistine Chapel and St. Peter's cathedral.

    I am a lover of art. Whilst I am no artist myself, (maybe a little) I've dabbled in a few mediums and have immense respect for the talent and dedication of time to creation of a visual masterpiece. The Vatican Museum is stunning, though experiencing such beauty amongst thick crowds of people and a guide with commentary, it removes the ability to pause. Reflect. Absorb. Appreciate and admire.

    The sheer volume of artwork is also a visual overwhelm. Everything begins to look the same or similar. I'm distracted by the pushy members in our small group, chewing gum like cows chewing the cud. It's an over stimulation and whilst I'm grateful I came. I saw. I am relieved when the tour concluded at St Peter's cathedral. No photography was allowed in the Sistine Chapel.

    I missed spying David's junk too. He is located in Florence. Non importa. I capture many more statues with what may clinically be termed as micro. Poor ancient Romans, though I have learned a small penis was affiliated with more noble pursuits of wisdom, knowledge and academia. Some console at least.

    I conclude my afternoon with another incredible pizza. A thick crust Margherita this time. And more coffee. Grazi Italy for your beautiful coffee and food.

    A bailed run. I'm citing fatigue and carb crashing. I dine alone tonight. A beautiful cafe called Pompi. Dessert only. A deconstructed Tira misu. Bellisimo.

    My final day in Rome tomorrow will be spent touring the Colosseum. And eating.

    Two more sleeps til Vegemite o'clock.
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  • Day 34

    The Colossal Colloseum and Ciao Europe

    December 6, 2023 in Italy

    My last day in Rome, and final day on this epic journey.

    I'm beginning to see the reason why the Italian carbs haven't impacted my weight too much. My jeans still fit. By 11.30am, I'd traversed 12km on foot. By the days close, this number grew closer to 20km.

    Today, I explored the Colloseum. It was splendid. Built in 72 AD, preserved beautifully, no grifters trying to fleece you of more. Another testament to the deep respect the Italian people hold for history.

    Whilst it did not evoke the same feelings of awe as I felt in Athens, Greece, I was profoundly grateful. Even more so of my stealth. I'd paid for a self guided tour with underground access, though I slid into a private tour group to gain access to other areas of the arena. #touristhacks. #notsorry.

    Vowing to enjoy my last day, I earned my last food rewards. More pizza. More pasta. Some cannoli. I think (I hope) the only impact is my overall fruit and vegetable consumption. Negligible compared to what I'd have at home, though our seasonal fruit and vegetables are spectacular right now.

    I have an extra spring in my step as I hold my loved ones so close in my heart. I'll be seeing them all so soon. There's nothing like being apart to remind you how profound the love you feel for your family and friends really is. And your dog. How I've missed my shadow.

    Over a month without hugs. A month without my little Ferdie by my side. Loving me at my worst. Loving me at my best. Loving me when I've eaten too much cheese and am re-enacting Pompeii.

    I've had an incredible trip. And I'm so ready to come home.

    I finish this post on the rooftop of my hotel. Sipping an Italian red. A rare indulgence during this trip. Salute Italia. Ciao Bella.

    I can't wait to be home and I have the biggest hugs ready for you all.
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