“… places tend to look the way you feel when you look at them.” Ian Frazier Reading my entry on Rome, I was struck by how your state of mind can affect your travel experience. According to my journal, I was feeling “blah”. Much of my entry was written from this grumpy point of view. On the second day, I was exhausted and quite frankly overwhelmed by all the ancient sites. We were too cheep to join a tour for the Colosseum and Roman Forum, so it was a jumble of confusion. I still kept snapping photos through it all (despite Sarah’s look of “will you put down that camera…

Some places deserve a special occasion treatment. For grungy backpackers, this means a skirt. Florence deserved a fresh look. Moreover, we had been advised a long skirt was more respectful for church visits. Our new frocks did not slow us down. I was a little surprised when I read my journal that we spent only one day in Florence and packed in so many sites. A visit to the Uffizi gallery in the morning inspired me to take an art history course at university the following year. In the afternoon, we toured Brunelleschi’s famed Duomo, the Baptistery and Giotto’s Bell Tower. To get the most value out of our new…

Sarah and I carefully counted our lira and choose a restaurant in our guidebook. A dinner out in Parma was a priority, the city famed for prosciutto and Parmigiano. We arrived that day from the Ligurian region where we had been obsessed with the sweet basil Genovese pesto (see Genoa). What food discoveries would we make in the Emilia-Romagna region? Snug at our rustic wooden table, we were surrounded by boisterous Italian voices and the aroma of sweet garlic. Is that bacon I smell? The scrawls on the chalkboard menu were unfamiliar. As a vegetarian, Sarah was careful to stick with dishes she recognized. Scanning the written menu, she spotted…

The gelato is intensely flavourful. Sweet, tart and fresh. It is a deep red colour, like perfectly ripe raspberries. Wow. I gently scrape another slushie mound on my tiny plastic spoon. The second bite is even better. Raspberry is my new favourite flavour. I look out at the turquoise bay. Behind me are pastel buildings clustered up the side of a cliff. My huge backpack is beside me. Our stop at Monterrosso was so brief we did not even stash our packs at the train station. We took a short hike along the coast, overlooking rugged cliffs and turquoise coves. Sometimes the path hugged the coastline with the rocky shoreline…

We were a sucker for hostels in castles: charming, historic, stunning views. However, their hilltop locations generally take some effort to access. Vuillermin Castle Hostel in Finale Ligure was no exception. Half way up the 321 steps, lugging my heavy pack, completely out of breath, I momentarily questioned this choice. But as usual, once we arrived it was totally worth it. Five star views at a cut rate price. On the Italian Riviera no less. I loved sitting by the window gazing at the bright Mediterranean blue ocean and rugged cliffs. Other than the 321 steps, our stay was very relaxing. We hung out with a Canadian (Heidi) who had…

Genoa was all about the pesto. According to my guidebook, anywhere else was not* the same. * to be said with a slightly upturned nose. Well then. We had to try it. So we had lunch in Genoa. Luck would have it, the Ligurian city was on our route from Milan to Finale Ligure. Quick stop at a large port city, navigating slightly sketchy Medieval streets, for pesto you can’t get anywhere else. Totally worth it. The whole city was under construction with dust, dirt and leering construction workers. It was days before the opening of the Genoa International Expo 1992 to celebrate 500 years since Cristopher Columbus happened upon…

I shimmy my tush between two tables to my seat. The small tables are snug in this Pizzeria. The restaurant is packed. We are in Milan, fashion capital of the beautiful, sophisticated Italy. The guy sitting next to me is hot. Holy crap. Sarah is sitting across from me. Her knowing glance tells me she has noticed too. Should we introduce ourselves? We order a bottle of wine first. He is sitting so close. Like, right beside me. There is about 6 inches between our tables. I take a long gulp of the red wine. It’s warm. Another sip. Spicy. I wonder if he is a backpacker like us. I…