Being together twenty-eight hours a day for what’s really only our third week has been just as intense (and sometimes overwhelming, to be honest) as you’d expect–between going every day to some impossibly gorgeous Merchant-Ivory film location to have a gelato or three and kiss in garden grottoes and on lakefronts and having all sorts of conversations that most couples, I’m guessing, don’t have in their third week together–I haven’t had any time, really, to blog, because it’s always like “Hey, amore, let’s go to a beautiful walled garden on an island!” and “What kind of cheese would you like for lunch?” and “Of course we can make out on this boat in front of multiple German tourists…it’s Italy!” and I’ve lost a bit of focus.

But I can show you some pictures, if you like. Let me just get my breaskfast pastries a little closer to hand and we can get going.

Okay, first we have a view of some town somewhere on the lake from some vantage point. Pretty helpful, right, all those of you planning a Northern Italian tour? Only if you want to see how stunningly beautiful it is here.

Speaking of stunningly beautiful…here’s D. on the “island of silence,” wearing a shirt I brought him.

And here he is, with his awesome friends Dena and Marco, on the way to the big statue of San Carlo, into which we climbed.

There’s a book called “Sotto la sua mano” or “Under His Hand,” and the hand in question is the statue’s. Hence–and follow me closely here–a pictureof that very same hand.

And here is a gratuitous shot of Arona, where D. happens to have gone to high school.

And here I am, climbing up a very steep staircase/ladder, in order to look out at the lake from inside San Carlo’s nostrils.

Later that day we all went to dinner, where I proceeded to eat myself sick on only two courses (instead of the usual three or four). I ate more meat that night than I have in the past couple of years, with tortuous (yet delicious!) results. I had such a good time hanging out all together–everyone spoke Italian, of course, so a lot of the time I couldn’t contribute much to the discussion but I was pretty proud of myself for understanding eighty percent of it, even the politics. (I think).

Speaking of food, here is a little dinner D. and I put together after we got back to the house one evening after his parents had already eaten. Here you see two kinds of water, oil, vinegar, salad from the garden, tomatoes, fried polenta, bread, and two kinds of cheese. I am usually a eat-on-the-couch-out-of-a-bowl kind of girl so it’s been interesting to sit down for every meal (man, I sound like a barbarian, don’t I) and, like, set the table.

And apropos of nothing, here is something EXTREMELY EXCITING and that is a mass-produced item with my name on it. You–seriously–you have no idea how exciting this was for me. Nothing has my name on it, as D. could tell you because I helpfully explained that to him for about half an hour when we saw this.

We went to Rome for about thirty-six hours last week, most of which were spent on the train. I didn’t go anywhere very exciting or famous (although I did take the Metropolitana to the Spanish Steps) so I didn’t really take any pictures, but here’s a rather polite grafitto I enjoyed very much.

And here is D. refilling a water bottle from something I thought was a leaky fire hydrant but turned out to be a perfectly ordinary water fountain. What an amazing photo opportunity.

Pretty much every day has been gorgeous since I’ve been here but I have to say that our trip to Isola Bella the other day was on its own special level in terms of fabulousness. We visited the Borromeo Palace and I just about lost my mind in the gardens. Let me just blow yours as well, okay?

“Humiltas” (humility) was the motto of the Borromeo family, which you see they wrote in huge giant letters right on their front lawn.

I think this one is my favorite. I just love those orange flowers.

I don’t think this is a great picture of me but I like it anyway, you know?

This is me attempting to get in touch with my Italian side by posing with a flag, on the boat back to Arona.

Yesterday we went to Milan for a couple of hours. The first time I came to Italy, with Marah, ten years ago now (AAAAAAAAAAHHHH) my dad asked me to go to Peck, which is this crazy gourmet store, with much meat in the window display.

We went inside but felt a) underdressed and b) like we were in a museum (a museum of food) so I felt funny taking pictures. I did enjoy these huge wheels of Parmesan cheese though.

One other thing I was supposed to do, the first time I came to Italy, was find my dad’s old apartment building, where he lived as a kid in the fifties. D. had taken some pictures there for me earlier but didn’t know the apartment number; this time I was finally able to do it. It was weird going there–I had halfway expected to feel some sort of connection there, but there was nothing, it was just a big old apartment building. I’m glad I went to see it, though.

And finally here I am, insuring my return to Milan. What you do, see, is go over to this mosaic picture of a bull on the floor and you twirl around on its, um, testicles. There’s a huge divot where they’re supposed to be; I had to wait in line with all the other tourists to get this picture. Anyway, it’s too soon to say whether I will ever come back here–all I can say is that I’m so glad to be here now.

Posted on July 19th, 2008 by Chiara
Filed under: Everything, Traveling