I stepped off the airplane and breathed in the Italian air for the first time. I thought to myself, something about this place is going to change me. I hugged my girl Nikko for the first time in a long time and stepped onto the cobble stone streets that lined Florence. I tripped. The ground was uneven, and my steps were unsure… Life imitates cobblestone, I suppose.
I breathed in again and coughed. Everyone is smoking. The smoke mixed with the absolute horrendous stench of the man in front of me singed my nose hairs right off. “Welcome to Italy,” Nikko said with a smile. Comforting to know she can still read me.
Sitting in my first Italian restaurant, I stared at the menu like it was something like a flying unicorn singing in Latin on the radio. What was I looking at? I settled on a crostini misti, a blanche pizza con prosciutto, and a bottle of acqua naturale. My first bite of my first real Italian meal and I knew, Italy was going to change my life.
(to be continued)…