We flew from Dublin to Heathrow, ran through the airport and barely made our flight to Rome. Took a shuttle from the airport to a random street in the middle of Rome and were turned loose by our bus driver who knew no English and was not helpful.
That's how it began.
Mid-week was the coldest day ever. We were in Venice, and we couldn't feel anything beyond the immediate core of our bodies. We stopped for some hot chocolate (with nasty rum) after getting lost in the narrow streets and finding treasures amidst the open markets. We were too cheap to buy food, so we froze and walked all day long.
I'll never forget that trip - the people we met - the creepy Roman waiter who gave us, first, a free dinner of bread and water, and the next night free lemon Pledge liqueur and sang Italian love songs to us - the awesome place we stayed in Venice - the creepy one in Rome - San Marcos Square - the Trevi Fountain - the Forum - the celestial voices of the mass taking place in the Pantheon when we arrived - St. Peter's Basilica and all of the dead, glass-encased popes - the new facets of my allergic reaction to peanut butter - the only food I'd brought with me to eat - red, swollen, itchy face, eyes, legs, arms. I could go on for days.
Venice decorated for Christmas.
I miss you, Friend, and our adventures - whether in Italy (no David in Florence?) or just to Helping Hands on Saturday mornings.
Here's to us! And our Italian adventure two years ago today!
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