- Stephanie Goudreault
When in the city of dreams.
I’ve been reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.
What a beautiful Book, and what a beautiful flash back into my experiential memory.
My memories from Italy are some of the fondest;
Laughter with friends
Too much pasta and fresh Parmesiano
I feel in love with the country when I first visited in 2008 and then went back in 2013.
I remember the magic I felt when I first entered a world that was so foreign.
Our society is very different than it was, and it sadness me that the travel industry may never be the same. The reasons we travel will change and our experiences will forever be "controlled" by our social status, nationality and reasons for travel.
Travel has always been more than a "vacation", it's been a discovery into a new perspective about yourself in an environment that's not familiar.
The experiences, the feelings and the memories are so much more vivid.
I’m sitting in the back street of Italy,
At a little coffee close to the Pantheon,
The sun is shinning in between the buildings, illuminating the cobblestone streets
I feel the buzz of this city,
People walking around with gelato on a warm sunny day,
The laugher, the people, the Italian music… and the merchant screaming profanities in Italian.
The city comes to life because of the people,
“Graze Mille!” I can hear a lady say as she is walking out of the gelato shop.
Ah what a beautiful day on the terrasse.
The smell of stone, the flowers that are near me and the bees buzzing around,
It’s only 11am, and the expresso, that I usually don’t drink here in Canada,
Hits the spot differently, and the croissant is simply … troppo bene!
The smell of sweetness, the smell of strong coffee, and the smell of a pastry always hits the spot. Like the perfect combination to a beautiful morning,
As I bring the expresso to my lips, The bitterness, mixed with the sweet taste of pasty makes me feel like a true Italian.
The tourists are taking over with their cameras in hand, I can here multiple different languages.
I can't help but to try and figure out what their saying, even the Italians have different dialect.
I'm submersed in a culture that values pleasure.
What a feeling to witness the history of this city.
The Trevi Fountain
I'm in awe of Italian heritage.
As I start walking down the streets after my morning snack, looking inside the windows of the shops, I can’t help but feel this insane amount of gratitude.
The glass blower creating magic, the baker who just took out panne out of the over, the Gelateria serving fresh pistachio gelato, the pizzaria who's fired up their ovens for lunch, the artists with their paintings in the piazza and the music that's played on every street corner.
I can hear the water splashing, I'm almost there.
This is Rome. The city of dreams.