Teenie and Meenie Do Europe.

Found another tiny gem from the depths of my phone. Enjoying Prague very much, but the food leaves a little something to be desired. Especially after Sardegna. 

I was thinking about this when I was on the beach in Cagliari. Another one of those moments where I wanted to bottle up the feeling and keep it forever. I just have so much love for Italy, and I often feel like my five foot five body isn’t big enough to contain it all. That maybe if I stretch out my arms and legs and fingers and toes and eyelashes and ears and even nostrils…maybe then I’ll be closer to have enough space.

But seriously. A lot.

Due to a series of very unfortunate events that I can’t really discuss because I’ll cry again, I didn’t get to say goodbye to my city during a layover. It sucked.

When I left Cagliari this morning, I was looking out the window as we flew towards the mainland of Italy, and I was overcome by this ridiculous urge to hug the whole country. Like somehow become big enough to actually wrap my arms all the way around and under the whole peninsula, heart strategically placed over Roma. That’s where it always is anyway, duh. I even wanted to hug my cab driver. Poor man, it was 6 am and I probably would have terrified him. “Who is this sobbing, blubbering mess telling me she loves me?!” I opted instead for the most charming smile I could muster and told him to have a lovely day.

I’ve just wanted to hug everyone I’ve seen lately, actually. I don’t know how else to thank everyone I’ve come in contact with—friends, airport workers, professors, pizza men, neighbors, strangers, people with whom I had one conversation and never saw again—for making this the best year of my life. Of course I don’t want it to end. Of course I want to stay. It breaks my heart to leave, and I mean that. It aches. It’s been a year without a single regret, a lot of laughter, and more love and light than I can ever possibly repay. But I’m for damn sure going to try to pay it forward.

Without fail, at the start of every trip (whether to Target or across the country), my dad says, “And we’re off on another adventure!” followed nine times out of ten by some seriously awkward dance moves than I unfortunately inherited. When I was little, I always got so excited hearing this because I loved (and still love) adventures with my dad. When I was in my emo/teenage angst phase (yeah, that happened, let’s move on) it annoyed me to no end because my dad was just sooooooo uncool. Now, it doesn’t feel like we’ve actually started unless he says it. I’ve done a lot of moping and a lot of crying (my apologies to the poor people on Poetto Beach and all wait staff in Cagliari) but as was pointed out to me, that helps absolutely nothing and no one. Me least of all. So instead of seeing this as a horrible end, I’m going to work on seeing it as a beautiful time in my life that’s just followed by my endeavor into another adventure.

…is my last full day in Italia.

I hate leaving places and people that have become home and family and that’s what I have the fine pleasure of doing today. All on a collective ten hours of sleep out of the last three nights.

I spent my last full day lounging and reading and laughing under the trees in Parco Sempione, watching the world and its people go by, and thinking about how much I’m going to miss this city and these people. 

I did everything I wanted to do in Milan. We’d all talked about it, as the end approached—the things we had the be sure to do before we left. Bucket listing, again. And I did all of the things I said I wanted to do. Actually, with the exception of my ever-growing travel lust-list, I’ve accomplished about everything I wanted to accomplish in Italia.

And you know what? I’m still not done here.

And that’s about all I really have to say about that.