Here’s an applicable quote from Mark Twain: “The Creator made Italy by designs from Michelangelo.”
I just wish it were possible to explore every corner, every village, every church, every seascape. But the truth is, you could live here forever and never see all of Italy. For a country that’s half the size of Texas and with twice the population, you wouldn’t think Italy would keep so many secrets.
Yet she does.
Vallechia, population 15, was almost impossible to get to. It’s so high up, there’s no cell reception. John and I drove around Liguria for hours trying to find it. But then we did.
An abandoned church that sits at the bottom of a valley in Civita Castellana. The light you see in front is from a shrine.
One of John’s photos of two Italian nonnas who, believe me, know everything about everyone, even you.
In Rome, right next to the Protestant Cemetery, is the Pyramid of Cestius, built around 18-12 BC.
Big sky. Little village. Todi with a stormy backdrop.
There’s a reason why Spoleto is visited even by Italians. It’s THAT beautiful.
Most Americans are surprised to see American stop signs in Italy, but they exist everywhere here.
When next in Italy, be sure to ask one of the locals,” Dov'è il belvedere?” Where’s the scenic overlook? And you might be directed to some place that looks like Lago del Turano.
Bussana Vecchia, a ghost town/artists’ comune close to the border of France.
Milan. It’s busy, noisy, crowded, but DEFINITELY has its own vibe.
Sumona is home of the first confectionary to make confetti, which, contrary to popular belief, are sugar-coated almonds, not shreds of colored paper.
Even port cities like Salerno have their astonishing beauties. That’s me, BTW. Taking it all in. Thankful to be alive.
Paestum was such a strange, wild place. There were sex workers on the desolate stretch of road to get there, and then these incredible Roman temples that served as makeshift infirmaries during WWII. The American Allies landed at Paestum and kicked some Nazi ass.
John had a gig here. It was one of the hottest summers on record. But not even a scorcher like that one could dim the beauty of this Umbrian farmhouse.
Orte is about as far as you can go in the region of Lazio before hitting Umbria. It’s a scrumptious little village.
Boiardo is so high up, and the roads so winding and narrow, I thought for sure we were going to die. The views, however, were stunning.
