Italian love affair

I’ll never forget the day that I left Italy. I was lying on a sun chair on the terrace of our apartment in Rome, I had my headphones in and as I looked up at the sky I heard in my ears, “I’m trying to find my direction home”. I realised then that I was leaving somewhere I felt perfectly at home.
I have never felt so in love with a place before. I love getting up early and taking a wander down the street and sighting Italian men in their business suits hanging out at their local espresso bar, or the occasional priest in his brown cassock; a regular stop before they start their day of work. I relish walking the cobblestoned streets and seeing an elderly, aproned women walk out her door to water a basil plant, or to dust the doorway with her straw broom. And I love the hectic Roman streets. I don’t think I could fault Rome in any way.
Though, Rome isn’t the only place I love in Italy. There is also Tuscany— anywhere in Tuscany! I love driving through the Tuscan countryside seeing haystacks, grapevines and those enticingly golden Tuscan hills. I remember sitting on a balcony in Lucca; under the shade cloth of the terrace opposite, I could see an ancient wooden crate brimming with fresh, overripe tomatoes and the bottom half of a lady in her apron and sandals. It was nearly dinner time and I could smell something beautiful coming from her apartment. The smell of these mini Italian feasts is a vivid memory; oh, those unforgettable, uniquely Italian aromas!
I also love trying to converse in Italian (Since being back home I have actually started Italian lessons with my partner once a week).Which somehow clutches my connection with Italy.
My first trip to Italy was in 2011; that was the moment I started my love affair. I have been back since and my love has grown even stronger. Those old men walking home—but before they do they stop at the gelato bar and get a cone of their favourite scoop. I always see them enjoying this on their own, maybe because their wives might be wanting them to watch their weight. Something else I love is going out for a late night gelato run myself, and getting caught up in one of their religious ceremonies, this mostly happens in the smaller towns of Italy and is much more common that you may expect. Sometimes it seems the whole town is there is a priest who is holding the cross and next to him is another priest with a speaker phone speaking in Italian, we tend to follow along at the back to immerse ourselves in the Italian culture.