Wait, did I really just go to Italy?

As I go about my days back in Atlanta, I’m seized every now and again by a sudden realization: I went to Italy last month.

Italy!

I really was there. It was truly amazing, as always. And it’s there waiting for me, whenever I’m ready to go back.

Favorite Italian Spots? Here's One

L'edicola. The newsstand. Still quite central to Italian life. If for no other reason than where, oh where, would you find so many puzzle magazines?

Reason #502 I Love Rome

THIS view. A window into heaven, as it were.

Reason #501 I Love Rome

This view.

And Then We Said Arrivederci

I'll continue to post photos from my Italy trip to the blog but I'll wrap up the story of my trip here.

So here are the numbers.

I spent a mere five days in Italy, including 24 hours in Rome.

My travels came eight years after my last visit to Italy (a thorough and thoroughly enjoyable trip to Puglia), and 10 years after my last visit to Florence.

I walked I would guess a dozen miles or more around the two cities, and spent hundreds of dollars, but not too much shame there since I spent them on the best things in life, and the things I like best – books, gifts for Leo and Mike and meals with friends.

When will I be back? Who can say? My job, as far as I was concerned, was to make the absolute most of my time in Italy. And I did that. As I wrote in my notebook that first afternoon in Rome, while walking through a minor piazza where a man was selling used books from a cart, “It’s already enough.”

I’m glad I was able to stay a few more days. I’d like to go back – tomorrow. Next month. Next year. And sure, I’d like to stay a week, two weeks, two months, maybe five years.

But if anyone out there wants to send me to Florence or Rome or anywhere in Italy for 24 hours, hey, you know where to find me. I’m always ready to hear a flight attendant say, “Benvenuti in Italia,” followed, of course, by a round of applause.