Willing My Way to Wanderlust

highlights of my italia adventures

Earlier this month, I was in the idyllic country of Italy for the first time to celebrate one of my best friend’s getting married. Now that I’ve recovered from jet lag, detoxed from all the wine, and caught up on some sleep, I’m excited to share more about the trip. 

“Travel is about the gorgeous feeling of teetering in the unknown.” – Anthony Bourdain

Growing up, my family traveled yearly to culturally rich destinations like Disney World, the Bahamas, Niagara Falls, and historic Williamsburg, Virginia. While I’m grateful for those experiences and the joy found in retreating to amusement parks or cushy resorts, they can’t compete with traveling to destinations where you’re immersed in a culture with language barriers and new norms to learn. At twenty-seven, this trip to Italy was my very first time to Europe–and certainly won’t be my last. With the newness and excitement of this experience, I also found myself worried about all the unknowns that come along with it. 

I’m proudly a self-acclaimed “good traveler,” which means I don’t have plane anxiety, I know how to pack appropriately (a 50-pound suitcase is acceptable to me), and I like to do research ahead of time, so I’m adequately prepared. For this trip, I was traveling with friends who lived in Italy for a few months of their college careers, so I took a step back from my Type A planning mentality and tried my best to ease into the spirit of wanderlust. Cambridge dictionary describes wanderlust as “the wish to travel far away and to many different places.” Circa 2012, you couldn’t spend more than 5 minutes on the internet without seeing posts from cool girls with “WANDERLUST” sprawled out on top of a photo of ominous-looking woods or an expansive sea. While I’ve always wanted to be like those cool girls and adopt a carefree, adventurous attitude, I am most content in my natural state as a homebody, coastal grandmother, and hygge type.

I traveled across the world with high school friends, a group of girls I have countless memories with from our all-girls Catholic school days. Prior to the wedding weekend, we booked a three-day trip to Sicily to begin our adventures. After a travel day consisting of a 9.5-hour plane ride to Rome, a 1.5-hour plane ride to Catania, a 1.5-hour train ride to Taormina, and a very winding car ride that caused me motion sickness, we finally arrived at our Airbnb at the almost tippy top of Taormina and were greeted with a spectacular view of the Ionian sea. We spent the next few days exploring daily, trekking into town by taking a snaking staircase that was exactly 632 steps and took approximately 15 minutes to go down and even more to go up. Every day looked more or less the same. We strolled the streets of Taormina, wining and dining every chance we had and soaking up the rich history as we wandered into chapels that were filled with breathtaking artwork and details. 

taormina

One afternoon, we went on a private boat ride to see Taormina from the sea, spying blue grottos, sneaking peaks of the private resorts, and cheering with perfectly chilled prosecco. We even attended an Arancini (a stuffed rice ball street food) class that was great in theory but had us all sick of eating rice within two minutes of sitting down to enjoy our meals of massive. On our last night, we dined at the Four Seasons– where White Lotus was filmed– and dreamt up a future where we would return and stay at the hotel without a second thought (manifesting). It was somewhere between biting into a strawberry-shaped Marzipan on the cobblestone streets and slurping the very last drop of an almond and strawberry granita for breakfast that I felt myself truly soak in the beauty of this trip and a sense of calm wash over me, knowing I was meant to be there in that moment. 

When Thursday morning arrived, we parted ways with Sicily to head to Florence for one of the most magical weddings I’ve ever been to. The next few days were filled with lots of wine, impeccable gluten-free, vegan pasta dishes (much needed), enchanting Italian musicians, the most stunning florals I’ve ever seen, and belly laughs with high school friends whom I’ve known for half (!!) my life. Between wedding festivities, I had a crash course in Florentine culture, making sure to see the Ponte Vecchio, Piazzale Michelangelo, the Duomo, and of course, sneaking in my first gelato of the trip just before the clock struck midnight. Between the wedding and the wandering, the week was filled with so much love, and my heart felt so full. 

florence

As with all trips, this one ended far too quickly. Now I’m back into my coastal grandmother routine, walking my dog down paved suburban streets instead of strolling through cobblestone. As I cozy into my couch for my evening wind down time, I’m tempted to plan my next getaway and get the trip out of the group chat (as the kids say). With just two stamps in my brand-new passport, I have the next decade to fill it up as much as I can as I tip-toe my way into the world of wanderlust.