JFK-->FCO ✈️

Letter #47: It's possible Italy is now at the top of my list, bumping Mexico into second place, Turkey into third place, and Nepal now in fourth.

Cuite Hil in Cute Pari

I had 3 days back in NYC before Hilary and I boarded our flight to Rome on Saturday, July 8th, 2023. The flight was at 1:20am, so technically we got to the airport Friday night. Which means I only had 2 nights to see the friends I hadn’t seen when I landed in NYC in early June. I made a tight schedule—

1. Dinner for Sasha’s birthday with Katlin in Brooklyn on Wednesday night. 🥳

2. Thursday Lunch with Kezia at the Williamsburg Public School she teaches at—we met at Tabata Ultimate Fitness 5 years ago, and we’ve been friends ever since. 🏋🏻‍♀️ Rode my bike there.

3. Thursday evening dinner with cousin Bilal and his fiancé, Lara 💞. Their good friend, Elif joined us for my fave, Dinosaur BBQ. Rode my bike there as well, was v sweaty.

4. Friday afternoon I’d have happy hour with Rose, my other best friend from my past company. 🌹

5. Friday night I’d have dinner with Sasha and Katlin again before heading to the airport. 🥰

JAM-PACKED. I wore my mask on the flight from MKE to JFK…I can’t risk getting sick before all these social plans AND before flying to Rome. 😷

I had a blast with everyone. It was so awesome to catch up with so many New Yorkers that I love—we picked up right where we had left off, but while sharing in the celebration of the latest in each of our lives. For instance, Sasha co-starred in a film that’s coming out soon. And Bilal and Lara’s engagement is a big deal—I’ve been an advocate for their sweet little relationship for years. Elif got a new job! 🎉 Katlin had prop styling projects piling up, and would be taking a 2-week vacation with her beau to France soon. Kezia just got back from a week in Costa Rica, and her son got a new dog. And Rose is still killing it at work and I miss her humor, authenticity, and affection so much. 🥹 And I, of course, am relaxed and happy and about to spend the next two months in Italy. 🙏🏻🍝 Ok, I’ll chill on the emojis for a bit.

Birthday dinner for Sasha, Bilal & Lara's terrace, the streets are still trashed but have a great day, and happy hour with Rose

I stayed at happy hour with Rose way too long (happens every time), and rushed back to Brooklyn to grab dinner with Katlin and Sasha. When we finished up dinner, I had about 30 minutes to shower and pack up my bag before I needed to head to the subway, and back to JFK. ‘Twas a whirlwind. No makeup, hair soaking, I ran out the door after they packed my bags for me. I love them. And we got some good Polaroids out of the process as well.

Hil was waiting for me in at an airport bar. She sat, facing the crowd, and yet still didn’t manage to see me walk up. Which is my favorite because then I get to come up behind her and scare her by doing something somewhat inappropriate that makes her jump. It works EVERY TIME. She hates it. 🤣

Friday night dinner before my flight, Katlin & Sasha helping me pack, on the subway, post scaring Hil at the airport

We chatted away while she finished up her airport wine, catching up on the last month. She had just finished moving into her new house (her and Andrei’s FIRST purchased home!), and was wiped. Work is demanding and moving is stressful, so we committed to making sure we hand plenty of downtime while in Tuscany. Slow days with minimal plans has been my MO for the past 6 months, so we were aligned in how we wanted the next week to go.

I can’t remember, I think the flight was slightly delayed, but we still landed in Rome ahead of time. I was a little braindead from minimal sleep but not too bad, so I felt confident about our 2.5 hour drive to Tuscany. We headed over to the Drivalia counter to pick up our car. The benefit of booking with them is that we could drop off the rental back in Rome city center (near our hotel), rather than dropping off back at the airport—it’s because I am a CRAZY planner, so much so that I think I’d like to integrate travel coordination into my career at some point.

The guy at the counter gave us an SUV—I was a little nervous about this as I assumed most people would be driving small cars. Fiats, Mini Coopers, etc. due to the narrow roads. But he assured us we’d appreciate a rugged vehicle for the country roads, so we went with it. I’ve driven many different types of cars so I figured it would just take me a moment to get comfortable.

Hil and I reached our little Tuscan village around 7pm on Saturday. On the drive over, I remember thinking “sure, this place is pretty, but is it really that different from the landscape in Wisconsin?!” It’s certainly hotter. And after 2.5 hours we pulled off onto a narrow, winding road, wide enough only for 1 car. The landscape began to change, becoming hillier, the vegetation more dense. We rounded a corner and the towering walls of Pari loomed above us. We both gasped, taken aback at how beautiful this town was, perched on top of a hill overlooking the Tuscan countryside. I took back all the thoughts I had on the drive in, as this place was the little dream of Tuscany I had imagined it would be.

We parked outside the village walls, upon a recommendation by the Airbnb owner’s friend, Sita, who’d be leading us to our little home for the next 5 days. She met us at the top of the hill, a tiny Brazilian woman that made Hil and I look 6 feet tall. She was so friendly and patient as we gushed about how beautiful Pari is. She led us to our little studio apartment, and Hil and I were losing our cool. EVERYTHING was cute. EVERYTHING.

Reaching Pari, Hil and Sida, our cute apt

The ceiling had exposed wood beams and clay colored bricks. The walls were a creamy stucco wash, and every single detail that the owner, Viola, put into the apartment made me want to cry from how well she designed this charming, rustic little space.

There were cute little cat statues and paintings throughout. A Batik bedspread. Mismatched light fixtures (lucky for me, NONE of them overhead), mismatched, shabby chic dishes. The mirrors were made of old window frames where the glass had been replaced for reflection. It was clear she took her time scouring antique stores and flea markets to find the perfect pieces.

Sida apologized that the room was so small, but Hil and I assured her not to worry—we’re New Yorkers, we thrive in tiny apartments.

We snooped around the apartment as we unpacked our bags, and proceeded to freshen up to grab dinner at the only ristorante in town—Bar de la Sandra e Barbara. The town is so small we walked about 2 minutes and found the only grocery store—Market da Roberto—and the restaurant just across from each other in the tiny town square.

We continued to share the same expressions of awe—we were falling in love with this place.

We asked the server if we could have a table for two outside. He spoke very little English and I didn’t yet have all the proper Italian phrases down, but he was patient and did his best to explain the menu to us. It was clear this was not a touristy town—very few people spoke English. It was exactly what we were looking for.

Right away we ordered a litre of house red wine for only 9 Euros (and I was so lucky that Hil agreed to have red with me!). We tried to decipher the menu to the best of our abilities. Hil wanted tomatoes first and foremost, so we ordered the Caprese salad. The guy dining next to us was having a ragu of some type—we could smell it from our seats, and, without even speaking, looked at each other, nodded, and said YUP.

When the server came back he told us the second pasta on the menu was a pomodori and aglio sauce—garlicky tomato sauce. He assured us it was “aromatic”, not “overpowering”. We both love garlic in excess, so ordered that along with the ragu. I ordered the insalata verde, which only ended up being a bowl of lettuce and a side of olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and salt for us to doctor up ourselves.

To say the food was excellent would be an understatement. The first bites of tomato sent us to the moon and back. The pici is a local type of pasta, like a thick spaghetti noodle (but similar in weight to udon), cooked to a beautiful al dente finish. We sopped up every last morsel of the pomodori and aglio sauce with their homemade bread. In total, we probably sat for a 2.5 hour meal, finishing our carafe of wine with a slice of some amazing crema cake and vanilla tartufa drowned in whiskey.

Hil and I both LOVE to eat good food. It’s the highlight of any trip we go on, any happy hour we meet up for, and any weekend we spend at each other’s apartments. So we both know we’ll continue gushing about the meal we’re eating for the entire duration of the meal, searching for new ways to describe our happiness with what we’re tasting. Neither of us gets annoyed—we could sit there and just talk about food for the rest of our lives.

We went back to our cozy little apartment, showered off the travel day, and climbed into bed. Viola had a memory foam mattress and 2 pillows per guest in the apartment—the sign of a VERY thoughtful host. It was absolutely silent in this little town, save for the cicadas that chirp non-stop. We both agreed we were gonna sleep like lil bambine.

First Italy dinner with my bestie, Caprese salad, PICI!, a lovely stoop in Pari, and my lil bambina in bed

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