Agosto in Italia
It was cold in my office the final minutes of the Friday before my trip. I tapped my pen against the desk. I was so eager to get out and finish packing for my trip abroad. To be honest, I was scared to be going to Italy. I went four years ago but as part of a tour and this time around my family and me would be navigating a train and taxi ride to Italy’s deep south to Davoli and San Sostene.
The next day we rode with family to the San Rocco festival in the village where my grandparents grew up. Band played while a procession wound its way around town. Church bells chimed and fireworks boomed as the participants marched while others offered wine and snacks from their front steps. We were pulled into houses of a distant relative’s second cousin for wine and crackers. Everyone is treated like close family there.
The last day we spent in Davoli was spent mostly on the beach. After my now favorite breakfast of a jelly croissant and a cup of espresso, we headed to for the sand and surf. We ate figs, hand picked from a family member’s garden and listened to the bustle of the Italian tourists from up North. The day flew by and we ended it with a dinner (of course accompanied by family).
The trip back was bittersweet. It felt like we had spent months sampling the food and culture from city to city and I longed for a night’s sleep in my own bed. I managed to find a few more souvenirs of my favorite books translated into Italian and we boarded the plane from Rome to Boston.
One of the coolest purchases I made in Italy: Harry Potter translated into Italian // #vscocam #harrypotter #italy #translation #books #bookstagram A photo posted by Sarah Croughwell (@sarahcroughwell) on