For the love of pasta

Well it has been a while between blogs, but what can I say. I have spent the past couple weeks hopping trains and probing the Italian landscape and culture. Oh, and sampling Italian cuisine to the point of bursting (no exaggeration there: I ate so much pesto pasta in Rome last week that half of it came back up through my nose while waddling away from the trattoria). Since Venice, we saw every major attraction in Rome, including the opulent galleries of the Vatican, then took off down to the Bay of Naples to the oceanside town of Sorrento - which is justly named 'land of the Sirens', with excursions to Pompei and Positano. Though we are on vacation, I will admit that we are both amply blistered and exhausted. We have done so much walking that, judging from the fit of our clothes, we are actually losing weight despite the 'carbo-licious' meals. I am eating nutella-slathered bread and sugary cappuccinos in the morning, followed by at least one gelato as a snack during the day, between meals of pasta, more bread, and copious amounts of olive oil. It is the mystique of the country that one can eat this stuff and not gain weight.
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A few hours ago we arrived in Florence and plan to spend the next couple weeks exploring the Tuscan countryside. It will probably be a refreshing break to take life at more of a relaxed pace, after the past couple weeks of navigating through the hectic metropolis of Italian cities, and sweating it out in 35 degree heat. We are only in Florence for the night, and it is nice and cool for a change. We will pick up our rental car in the morning and head for the highway, clutching our map like a lifeline. After my experience as a pedestrian in Italy, I am wondering in hindsight if I should have written my Will before daring the roads as a driver. The Italians' reputation for crazy driving is not unfounded. Crosswalks are for decoration only, stop lights are a mere suggestion, and passing other drivers is permitted anytime, anywhere. Driving is done at full gallop, even in the most narrow alleys. But I figure that we beat the odds by surviving our driving excursions through Scotland on the left side of the road (which, by the way, felt VERY, VERY wrong), and with that under our belt, we forge ahead with confidence - however trepidatious that may be.
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Italy sure has been quite the experience so far. I feel like I have stepped into a Vogue magazine. It is truly bizarre being surrounded by this many fashionable, gorgeous people. It's surreal. As I was saying to Ken tonight as we were eating dinner by the Duomo, "No matter how I wrap my scarf or put on my make-up, I still look like ass next to all these people". But I am okay with it. Thus, I continue to eat my way through this country with absolute abandon, having surrendered any last vestiges of vanity.
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I think it is likely that I will return to Canada in a couple weeks, with everyone who read this Blog thinking, 'uh...you definately did not lose weight, Heid. The sensation of loose fitting clothes was because they simply stretched'. But polite lies are welcome anyway.
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Well, ciao for now. I have to go lie down before all that pasta makes it's way up through my sinuses again.

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