1 Year in Europe...

The one year anniversary of our big move to Europe has arrived, and I can't help but feel contemplative about it. Perhaps it all started on our honeymoon, or the day we met, or maybe moving to Europe has been in our plans all along, who knows, but we'll never be the same, and we've never been happier about our risky decision. Brandon and I both had tumultuous years leading up to our first encounter and then extremely busy years afterward. Between carrying on our relationship, driving our careers, planning a wedding and deciding what was next after that, I'm not sure much breathing or reflection time was allowed.

Then we went to San Francisco for our honeymoon, took a few deep breaths, had hours of reflection and many, many, good long talks and realized we were ready for a change. We met Beppe later that week in the Haight district, finished off a fabulous vacation and came home with desires for a different location and a different lifestyle. Neither of us were searching for ourselves, or for greatness or for any other typical bullshit excuse for making such a huge decision, we just wanted to be happy. Why the hell not was our daily motto, we (obviously) hate the feeling of having to do anything a certain way because it's expected, making this opportunity perfect.

Brandon moved first for about a month while I lived with my Dad and failed miserably at trying not be an emotional girl for three weeks. I cried, and cried, and cried, and cried. The whole situation was overwhelming - I missed my husband dearly, I knew I was going to miss my family and my friends, I was scared to death about moving to a foreign country when I'd never even left the US before, and I was just plain and simple, freaked out. Even though I always felt like the type of person that wanted to be different without a care about what society deemed appropriate - I couldn't believe I was actually following through with it on such a large scale.

The day before I left, I cried even more, said goodbye to my sisters, said goodbye to my dad, then said goodbye to my two best friends, and I cried and cried and cried before going to sleep that night. When the morning came however, I felt oddly okay, ready to leave, and excited, as if all the crying and emotional breakdowns just needed to happen for me to be able to let go of the past and say hello to my new life with my new husband. 

As you all know, I had a lot to let go of, and it wasn't easy: my family, my friends, the leftover emotions, and the physical pain, literally, from that dreaded night in November four years ago. Everybody, including myself, repeats those wanted changes they long for in their heads everyday; to lose weight, to be more positive, to stop and smell the roses, to work harder, to eat healthy and blah, blah, blah - but maybe we all have to let go of something first before we can allow change. And for me, letting go happened in its most pure physical form - uncontrollable, relentless, ugly, snotty sobbing. But then I was okay, I boarded three flights, a Venetian city bus, and a sweaty second class regional train to Verona, Italy and brought on that big need for change with a vengeance.

Now a year has past and the changes that have taken place, despite the obvious of living in a foreign country, actually surprise me. For one, I realized Brandon and I were always happy, so 'searching for happiness' quickly became irrelevant - we were just really, really stressed out and needed a break. Another realization, also connected to irrelevance, was discovering the hang-ups that occur in different societies, a result of which, makes these hang-ups altogether irrelevant to both of us now. 

For example, American society has hang-ups about two things that Europeans don't think twice about: nudity and drinking. (Refer to the youtube clips about Janet Jackson's breast reveal at the Superbowl a few years back, seriously? Get over it. And drinking wine before lunch, only brings good things to an otherwise normal day.) Although, Italians have hang-ups about two things Americans don't think twice about: working too much and fashion. (Nothing is ever open here, ever. And going to the grocery store requires a well thought out outfit, preferably with a designer bag and the perfect casual, but not too casual, shoes.)

In all however, the most surprising change is our excitement to return home. Maybe traveling, partying in strange cities with strange people, discovering odd things about different cultures and, most importantly, realizing that life doesn't have to be so damn stressful, brought on a feeling of satisfaction and a longing for home. We truly miss our families and our friends. I really do think that unless people take advantage of the love around them, that there's no way they will ever be able to love or appreciate anything else. Traveling has made us realize what's important in life and what's not. More travels are ahead still however, the summer is new and the fall is bringing us to more countries so Cheers! to everyone, enjoy a beer before noon today, don't freak out about provocative advertisements, wear whatever you want to the grocery store and work as hard as you play this week. 

Pisa, Bagni di Lucca (Tuscany) and Florence...

...eight trains, three towns and three days. We couldn't avoid Pisa or Florence any longer, but Tuscany in between just added to the contemplative ambience of the adventure. Our other goal on this trip was finding great vegan food - a surprisingly easy and tasty venture. (Folks down South are definitely more keen on feeding vegetarians than the confused meat eaters in the North.)

The trip began in Pisa where we joined other eager tourists leaning against the air, pretending to fool the prospective of camera angles everywhere, something that's never been done before. Lunch was enjoyed at a ristorante called Da Bruno. The waiter, an older Italian man, was actually excited to offer their various local 'vegano' cusine - bruscetta, vegetables (lots of mushrooms) and bean soups. I found this restaurant online because of their wide assortment of vegan food, like most Italians, they're proud of their region that just happens to be filled with fresh vegetables and legumes.

(P.S. This thing is pretty crooked, seems like it could fall at any second.) 

We hopped on the next train to Bagni di Lucca after this, apparently nicknamed the Switzerland of Tuscany. The picture at the top of the blog is from this town. Our bed and breakfast, Villa Rosalena, sat on the side of a mountain right above a river and down the road from the tiny town center. Bagni di Lucca is known as a refuge for British artists (including Byron and Shelley back in the day) so obviously, I was struck with its beauty and inspirational vibes. 

Thermal hot springs, caves and grottos were everywhere here, as well as one of the first casinos ever built in Europe in 1800's: 

The bed and breakfast, Villa Roselena, was also found online because they cater specifically to vegetarians. The owners were Irish and it wouldn't be possible for me to describe how gracious, hospitable and elegant these people were. Breakfast on the first day was fresh baked bread, couscous salad (with strawberries, white raisins, walnuts and cinnamon), garden grown fruit and a plate of garden grown grilled mushrooms, cherry tomatoes on the vine and grilled potato souffle with rosemary - incredible and beautiful.

Day two was a fruit salad, more fresh baked bread, then a warm cinnamon apricot bruschetta on home-made brioche (italian croissant). This town was extremely tiny but the British influence was everywhere. British flags, English language on signs, etc. and Brits on vacation mixed in with the locals. One very un-British thing however was the cheese rolling tournament we walked up on during a festival on the main street. This was oddly comical yet taken very seriously by the locals. We enjoyed a seat next to the action, sipped on a (traditionally Northern) spritz (how posh of us) and pretended to understand the drunk local men hollering in dialect at the table next to us. 

Dinner was at a local pizzeria on this same street. The owner, in typical Italian fashion, was boisterous while introducing all the vegan/vegetarian options at his restaurant. Their selection of great beer was also a plus, but the quality of the food and vegetables, not surprisingly, was over the top. Our favorite dish here was fried mushrooms - not breaded - just mushrooms quickly fried in very hot oil, turning the outside of the mushrooms crunchy but keeping the inside gooey like fresh french fries - wow.

The rain kept us mostly indoors the next day, reading, drawing and sleeping with the windows wide open, which was great because we rarely just relax on our vacations. Our Irish host also brought us this to aid in our relaxation: 

(Gestures like this always renew my love for the hospitality of B & B's.)

Our fancy dinner was spent at restaurant overlooking the river (see the top pic too). They were serving my favorite wine (Montepulciano d'Abruzzo) and gave us the best seat in the house. I indulged greatly in fish and cheese here because it was too good not to, but Munday was served an incredible three course meal and was treated, once again, with a great pride at their ability to accommodate vegans. 

The following day, we headed to Florence, land of the Renaissance, and about five billion American college students. I had two goals, one was to see Michelangelo's David and the other was to see Elizabeth Barrett Browning's tomb. Both were happily achieved and our fabulous time, in between the tourist spots, was enjoyed at various cafes and resting spots out of the sun. 

The city was smaller than I imagined, after having been to Rome, Milan and Venice, I expected grandiose modern city life mixed in with history, but that just wasn't the case. The buildings were far from modern, historical fountains and sculptures were on every corner, artists and students walked every inch of the streets and nobody was in a great hurry to do anything. Even the Americans seemed overly relaxed outside of their quick excited chattering with each other.

Florence therefore was everything it has probably always been - an epicenter of learning, nationally and internationally, which is inspiring. Even the famous David, just like the city, was large but not overwhelming, historical and yet also inspiring in his own way because of how truly beautiful he really is. Beauty in Michelangelo's day doesn't seem far from today's attitude of what constitutes a traditionally attractive male. Artists of course surrounded the statue, sketching, not too furiously, the contours of David's thin but muscular frame and saddened expression (apparently an interpretation of his face right before defeating Goliath).

Pictures weren't allowed of course, but here's a few others from Florence:

The train rides home were long but we made it through another weekend of travels and brought home lots of quiet happy thoughts. Traveling has changed both of us in so many ways, enlightening, educating and thought-provoking about how we want to live our lives. Some things become completely obsolete (television, drama, judgements about what other people think and stress) while other things suddenly rise to top of the life list (being happy, learning about the world, making friends and enjoying as much as possible of everything). 

Our only hardship is being so far away from family and old friends. Traveling does provoke that need for 'home' and being around those people that know you inside and out. We miss everyone everyday and are really looking forward to being home again when that day comes. I hope everyone takes advantage of the love they have around them because everything else is nothing without that.

Love you guys a lot...I might indulge in a nap now...I think traveling is adding years onto my young life. haha ;) Ciao Ciao and don't forget to update us on your lives too! We enjoy hearing from everyone when possible and I hope you're all happy...