The Day Trip

First, my apologies for the lack of blogging last week! 

Settling back into "home life" took a longer, harder, more tiring toll than expected. While getting back into the responsibilities of work, unpacking, and checking off social engagements, I've already come to miss vacation life.

It's always the same process. While away, I may desire to head home to find the shape of my own bed, or see my loved ones, and then shortly after arrival, the comforts wear off and I remember that just a week ago I was horizontal on a beach, or gazing at a Bernini sculpture. 

However, the best thing to daydream about is the day trip. 

It's the mini-vacation you take while on vacation that brings you into a new place, within your already changed atmosphere. My final week in Rome at times, felt a bit suffocating. I knew I couldn't maintain staying in the city for the full duration of my trip, so I looked for some alternative places to hit by train. I took three trips, (all under 2.5 hours) and they quelled my restlessness. I went to: 

• Santa Marinella - In less time than it takes to watch a movie, you can be transported to beach life. Rent a luxurious fluorescent lounge chair, take out a book, and order a pizzette by the side of the sea. 
• Villa d'Este - This villa is located in Tivoli and features manicured gardens and flowing fountains fit for royalty, or at that time, religious figures. It also makes the UNESCO's World Heritage site list. 
• Orvieto - Orvieto is a small town located in Umbria, that is built on volcanic rock called "tuffs." It was the least touristy location I visited during my entire stay in Italy. The tiny town seemed like an idyllic place to live if you want to settle down close to the capital of Italy. I ordered gnocchi with truffle oil (as truffles are Orvieto's specialty) and I bought my own bottle to take back to Canada for recipe testing. 

Below is my final travel diary. Enjoy! x 

What does it mean to be beach ready?

What does it mean to be beach bod ready?

Before summer hits, women are inundated with images, messages, routines, tricks and trickery on how to get "ready for the beach" also known as - lose weight! tone up! hide body flaws! get a better ass!

Living in Italy for the past couple of weeks has left my body feeling a bit soft. I don't have a scale here and my pants all still fit, but I have a feeling that I've put on a few pounds. 

People often say that talking about the weather is boring; I think talking about weight is equally banal. What person of substance sits around and discusses how she shouldn't have had that piece of cake, or how much she will have to walk in order to burn off a slice of pizza? Isn't it narcissistic to believe that someone besides your mother cares about what you eat?

And yet I do it.

I joke about how much gelato I eat, or how I polished off a large plate of pasta, or how I shouldn't take an Italian pastry with my macchiato. I make these jokes daily and then I realized how ridiculous I sound.

The relationship we have with our body is always a personal one. I believe in living an active lifestyle. I believe in getting your heart rate up. I like what exercise does to my brain. I like the way my mind operates after a workout. I like feeling strong.

But, to enjoy food is to also enjoy life.

To sit with someone and share a meal means to be fully aware of the person in front of you. To not just passively inhale food, but to actively find pleasure in the experience around you. To truly taste food, you need to stop badgering yourself for having it in the first place. Also, I don't believe in depriving yourself while on vacation. To experience the culture of a place, you must let your stomach be your guide.

I took the train with some friends to the beach this past weekend to San Vincenzo in Tuscany. I let the sun wrap around my bare skin. I doused myself in salt water, and floated on the ocean like a upside down seashell. I had two scoops of gelato, in my bikini, while laying on a towel.

And so I realized that all anyone needs to be "beach ready" is as follows:

1. A really hot day
2. Swimwear
3. Sunscreen
4. Book/music
5. Good people

I had all five and never felt better. Post-beach, I returned home to my roommate at 11 p.m. and since I hadn't had dinner, she made pasta for us.

And I ate every last piece. Quietly.

x

Italian Cooking Class - Homemade Tagliatelle

It's been a sweltering week here in Florence (35 degrees everyday) and while I've nearly melted, the highlight of my week was making homemade tagliatelle in cooking class.

We had a new chef in this week, since our original teacher was sick, and chef Dado meant business. While I've documented making homemade pasta on the blog before, this time felt more grueling than usual, as we were without air conditioning in a classroom with one fan.

And yet, while kneading the dough and cutting the ribbons of pasta, I couldn't help but wonder, why go through all this trouble if you can just buy it?

The moment I tasted the results: fresh, light, shiny egg noodles, my opinion changed. You go through all this "trouble" because it tastes a hundred times better than anything you can buy in a bag.

I also feel like I've been putting on some pounds, (more on this preoccupation with weight that I've concluded seems to be very North American) but there is no real way around it. When you're in a cooking class, you eat everything that is prepared. When you're in Italy, you taste everything in sight.

Below are photos from my class! Hope you enjoy them & have a safe and happy weekend! x 

                                 ^^ Apparently this is my pained expression while making pasta

Under the Tuscan Sun with Brad Pitt - Travel Diaries

This past weekend, I ventured out to Chianti for a Tuscan Bike Tour.

I'll admit that I wouldn't normally book something like this, but my friend Kiel insisted that he had the best time with his wife Carly on this exact tour, and that I MUST GO. I brushed it off, until I realized that the meeting spot was a two minute walk from my apartment.

The tour was full of people from all over the world, including honeymooners from Minneapolis, a family from Isle of Man, and an environmental engineer from Australia. The first part involved touring a castle for a wine and olive oil tasting, while the second portion involved actually riding a bike up and down the hilly paths of Tuscany.

Every bike had a name, and I was assigned to Brad Pitt.

As we started the tour, I couldn't believe how natural it felt to be on a bike again. I basked in the feeling of complete freedom, as Brad and I made our way through the sun drenched roads of Tuscany. However, some hill portions were more challenging than others and I found myself regretting all those scoops of gelato I consumed the week prior.

Halfway through the ride, we stopped for a lovely sit down lunch to gorge on pasta and relax before the tougher portion of the ride. Post-lunch, I was ready to get moving so I jumped on Brad and while exiting the restaurant, I fell. 

I was turning Brad Pitt's handlebars (how's that for a visual?) and because I was on gravel the wheels gave. I scraped up my hand pretty bad, and was mortified as the two young, male bike instructors had to run to my rescue, while everyone watched. After that, I was a bit more nervous on my bike, but still tried to keep up with the group.

Anyways, besides Brad's extreme betrayal of me (now I know how Jennifer Aniston felt,) I was happy that I forced myself to do something out of my regular travel routine. The hilltops of Tuscany made me feel like I was Diane Lane in Under the Tuscan Sun, even though I don't think she ever rides a bike in that movie.

Below are some photos I took (not while riding, obviously) and here is a link to their website. Enjoy! x

New Weekly Mantra & The Festival Of Lights - Pisa

This past weekend I visited Pisa and attended La Luminara di San Ranieri, which is a festival of lights for their patron saint. Each window and building that lined the Arno river was lit by thousands of candles hand-placed, to illuminate the entire city.

It was the most magical festival I've ever experienced. People who are close to me know that I am mesmerized by lights. Take me to a restaurant, a bar or a park with tea lights and I'm yours.

Sometimes the light can be more scary than the dark because it involves going towards something that is greater, stronger and more stunning than we may believe we deserve. This week's mantra come from Plato, and has to do with accepting the light in whatever form it presents itself.

"We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light."

Below are some photos I took of the festival. I'm not the most skilled in taking photos at night, so here is my experimentation. Enjoy! x