Updated: Sep 16, 2018
Settling back into the real world after getting married, it's been so much fun looking back on our honeymoon in Italy.
After we eloped in Paris (photos coming!) Andy and I set off for Italy.
Being Tuscan/ Sicilian and raised mostly by my Italian grandmother, when I came to Italy, I finally felt like an Italian. I loved walking through Rome and seeing ancient architecture mingled with the modern. And Positano was crowded, but picturesque.
It almost seemed like a faux pas to have tan lines. Middle aged men unabashedly stripped down to their chest hair and speedos, women with gold hoop earrings and already olive-toasted skin splayed out in the cheekiest of bikinis; one pieces and swim trunks were rare.
The term "Honeymoon" in Italian has nothing to do with honey or moons. Our driver into Rome let me know it was actually: Il viaggio della nozze, or "wedding journey."
Positano was an architectural marvel. Little pastel pink, yellow and white buildings nestled right into the hillside, interconnected by tiny winding roads that steeply wound back and forth, ultimately leading down to the ocean. If you waded into the ocean and looked up, it looked like an Easter-colored beehive with buildings swirling up and up until the mountain tapered off to a point at the top.
But along the way were endless shops, oh the shops. Shops with lemon salt shakers, limoncello bottles, lemon ornaments, lemon everything. But for every tchotchke shop, there was next a sprawled open dress shop with billowing linen dresses in soft ocean colors. And then in between were little holes-in-the-wall offering aquamarine jewelry, beaded swimsuits...
But of course, if you needed an espresso, a tiramisu, or a five course seafood dinner, all you had to do was turn a corner.
Italian was the reigning language, despite tourists from all over. (Positano was a vacation spot for Italians way before Instagrammers discovered it.) It’s a lilting, melodious, boisterous language. It makes people come alive when they speak it, even old men sounded young and vibrant when they spoke with one another. And you heard it all over Positano. You heard it when you squeezed into a tiny pasticceria and young raucous men shot the breeze with each other over the counter. You heard it from little nonnas browsing outside a jewelry shop.
Andy and I are already daydreaming about when we can escape to Italy next - maybe Sicily?
Till then, enjoy these extras from our Honeymoon!