Diary Entry #2
Deary diary...
I have a lot to catch you up on.
I'm writing to you from New Jersey. I arrived home from Italy about one month ago, and the trip already feels like a distant memory. It's crazy how quickly a one-month life changing trip can become a distant memory. To make sure those memories never fade, let's recap the second half of my trip.
The last time we talked, I was on a train to Cinque Terre. Instead of detailing the entire trip, I'm going to give small details about every place I traveled to.
Cinque Terre April 10-14
This was my first true solo trip after fleeing my World Packers. I hopped on a train hoping it was the right one and let it whisk me away to what I was hoping would be a coastal getaway.
While I was on the train, I was scrolling through Instagram. As I was clicking through stories, someone I graduated from high school with and haven't seen since high school, posted that he was in Cinque Terre. Since traveling is all about going out of your comfort zone, I sent a quick message telling him that I was also about to be in Cinque Terre.
Thank God I had the balls to send that text because I spent the next three days having the best time ever with my friend Robert and his girlfriend Jess. I'm a firm believer that even if we were friends five years ago, we're still friends now. That proved incredibly true after three days of beach days, wine nights, and gelatto.
When I wasn't crashing their couples trip, I was hiking through Cinque Terre's five towns. I woke up early on my first full day and set off on a five mile hike from Riomaggiore to Corniglia.
Truthfully, I'm a little directionally challenged when it comes to hiking, but thankfully I ran into a man who spoke no English, and he led me through the whole hike. Despite me not knowing a lick of French, he spent three miles talking to me in French and taking pictures of me at every scenic spot.
They say never get in a car with a stranger, but there's no saying about hiking with strange French men named Renee.
On my last night in Cinque Terre, I made another friend. Sophia was a girl in my hostel, and we bonded over the pot of coffee she offered me on our hostel's balcony. After a beach day together, we shared a bottle of wine and watched the sunset. During the beautiful sunset a heron flew across the ocean, and I got stung by a bee; two amazing signs that I was in the right place at the right time.
April 15-23
For the next week, I tried my luck again at a World Packers. This time I took a bus to a remote house on the top of a mountain in Tuscany.
I stayed at a house with a man named David. I planted hundreds of strawberries, learned how to make bread, hosted a Sharma workshop, and drank a lot of limoncello.
I didn't flee this stay and ended up having a great time. I don't really feel like talking more about it. It was good. A little silly. Very tiring.
April 24-April 30
Now, if any of you know my mom, you know that she isn't the most spontaneous lady. I definitely get my love for plans and organization from her, but that crazy lady decided she needed some more adenture in her life and flew back to Italy to meet me in Naples for her birthday.
I planned us a five day trip through Naples to Sorrento celebrate her 46th birthday. I booked the excursions, and she picked the hotels because she has high standards.
Some highlights of our trip include gelato every night, shoving through crowds in the Amalfi Coast, drinking a lot because Joanne loves a good drink, and a pasta making trip.
Mom and I have never really done a duo trip like this before, and it was 100% successful. We laughed, shopped, and had the time of our lives.
On her birthday, I made us a reservation for dinner at this cute homey restaurant. She decided she wanted something with live music, so she found us a different place to go to.
However, said music happened to be a 70 year old man missing teeth and chaotically strumming his guitar with no rhythm or music in mind.
Honestly, all I want to really tell you guys about is my last day, or should I say last ten hours, in Italy.
May 5-9
During my last week in Italy, I did a writer's retreat. Me and 12 other people all over the age of 30 spent four days writing and meeting with guest speakers. I truthfully didn't know what to expect, and when I showed up to my welcome dinner and realized I'd be the youngest person in the group, I sighed a breath of relief.
There were no cute boys to impress or intense writing girls I'd feel intimidated by. Just a group of nice people all at different stages of their writing career looking to learn more. It was amazing.
May 9th 2 pm
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