Through New Eyes

The ramparts in Lucca

Revisiting, whether in locations or relationships doesn't tend to be a part of my M.O.  This world is so huge and full of so many possibilities, that I'm constantly seeking the new.  Unless it's Paris.  There isn't any pretext too flimsy to deter me from going back to Paris.  The funny thing is, I've retraced my steps here in Europe more often than I'd planned.  Prague, Hvar, Milan, Brussels - and Florence.

Florence for me was a blur of the Uffizi Gallery, The Rape of the Sabine, bartering in the leather market, treating gelato as a necessary food group and dancing until dawn with my three LA travelling "brothers".  Pisa and Siena were lovely in the Fall.  I thoroughly enjoyed Tuscany, but didn't really feel a strong pull to return.  And then Mom and Dad arrived.

Seeing my parents' enjoyment of the architecture, history and wine was such a highlight.  While I'm continually struck by the beauty of my Italian surroundings, the "pinch me, I'm in Europe" feeling of my first trip here has faded.  And with the sheer amount of traveling I've been doing this year, it's all too easy to become jaded to the cultures that I walk in daily.  Seeing these same locations through my parents' eyes was just what I needed to refresh.

Piazza della Signoria

Ponte Vecchio

Pisa

"Christmas Criminals" graffiti in Lucca

Leather market in Florence

The Campo in Siena

Siena

Fiesole

View from Fiesole

En route to Umbria

You realize that after several smooth train journeys in a row, you're overdue for a gong show day.  Ours involved a toddler with a piercing shriek and a penchant for loudly battering a plastic suitcase with a toy hammer, a young mother more interested in her cell phone conversations and flirting with the men in the hallway and a train that enjoyed hanging out at every stop for upwards of 25 minutes.  The train between Naples and Rom was 95 minutes late - and yet we still beat the class to Spello.

We met Liz on the Spello platform, freshly arrived from Rome, were duly picked up and whisked away to a gorgeous agriturismo (bed and breakfast where a percentage of the food served has to come from their own working farm) with views of an ancient tower.

Reunited over dinner at our place, all dishes produced locally or on-site right down to the ceramic plates, we toasted Umbria with our usual early-stage vigour.