By August, after months of blood sweat and tears we�d settled on our itinerary and had booked nearly everything. The trip�s length had blossomed from a week initially, to 10 days, to two weeks and finally, to three weeks. It involved a combination of hotels and a villa, a rental car, lots of places to visit from the famous to the obscure and the freedom (or the illusion of freedom) to do whatever.
According to plan, we spent the first ten days of our vacation on a road trip throughout the north of the country, which was, to be honest, exhausting. I was enjoying myself as best I could, but going from hotel to hotel took its toll and one by one, we all wound up getting very sick. My immune system was first to crumble and by the time we hit Venice on the fourth day, the run-down feeling I�d been fighting off had won out. I felt like I�d been run over by a truck. All I wanted to do is crawl back in bed but, of course I didn�t want to waste the opportunity� so I downed some nice drugs and spent the two days we were there weaving through massive crowds and getting lost (very easy to do) while my heart beat as furiously as a panicked rabbit�s (my body doesn�t handle cold medication very well!)
But before it sounds like I�m complaining, I will say that Venice was absolutely lovely and I recommend it to everyone. Basically, I want to juxtapose the frantic pace we�d set for ourselves between driving to Florence, Venice and Ravenna (also lovely and worth a look!) and the stress of hotels with the complete calm of settling into a villa, which is what we did for the latter ten days of the trip. The plan we�d envisioned before we left was to �wagon-wheel� from our Tuscan villa (going out each day to a new, far-flung destination) but we were so sick and tired that we had to somewhat scale back our ambitious plans. Ordinarily this would have been a catastrophe for someone like myself, who likes to go go go (waste not, want not!) when on vacation. However, the more relaxed pace was ultimately the best thing that could have happened, and we enjoyed our stay all the more for it.
I simply cannot recommend more the renting of a villa. Hotels are fine, but nothing compares to waking up each day and, for example, not having to throw on your clothes and venture out in search for a cup of coffee. We like to get up fairly early and being able to sit in a warm kitchen in our jammies with half-lidded eyes, sipping a proper cup of Arabica was priceless. Or sitting up at night playing cards at the same table when a gelato craving hits and in less than two minutes having bowls piled high. Or walking out into a quiet garden in the late afternoon sunshine and just reading with no one around you-- all is silent but for the birds rustling in the trees. Villas offer the chance for peace and quiet, a home away from home, but with the option of going somewhere more �exciting� if you choose.
They are also far more affordable than hotels, especially given the fact that you can cook your own food. And having to cook for yourself means that you get to go grocery shopping, which is both exhilarating and intimidating in a foreign country whose language you can�t speak, let alone read. Fortunately, because a lot Italian food is already familiar to Americans, it�s not a hopeless situation. Spaghetti is still spaghetti, though trying to communicate your needs at the butcher counter can get complicated and requires gesturing while you yourself become the butcher-- of the language, that is. And don�t, whatever you do--whether a fruit stand, produce market or grocery store--touch the fruits and vegetables without putting on the little plastic gloves first! You�ll either get a disapproving frown or be yelled at like I was. Unlike the States, they don�t want everyone�s grimy little paws all over their produce, and you know what? Their fruits and vegetables are generally gorgeous, with little bruising in sight. You know, they might be onto something there�
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