That one word simply does not describe the life that resides in that beautiful land. Yet I will not gloss over the love that I have for that simple word. Forever more will it hold an armload of warm feelings and rushes of pleasurable memories all within it's brief utterance. Never have I been to a place as that which has given me such a place to belong in. We fit each other perfectly and I will not pass into the after lands without having visited it again. I find myself dreaming daily of my own villa in the hills which I can visit multiple times a year. Sigh . . . why not every day? My children would follow me. Daily they voice their own versions of the same desire. "Mommy, wouldn't it be nice if Italy was in the Netherlands?" "Mommy, the sun was nicer in Italy." "In Italy . . . " and the list is endless. My husband has voiced more than once the desirable positions he could attain in Italy. Yet for some reason I hear that voice we've all been trained to listen to. You all know it. The one that seems to talk to you in the voice of your mother, "Wake up child and stop dreaming. Welcome to the real world." Well, there's this song I've heard from a favorite artist that claims there is no such thing as the real world. Some of you may know it. I realize now that I have experienced the awakening you expect you will find upon traveling Europe. It is nothing I expected it to be. It is like falling in love for the first time and tasting a new flavor that upon first touching your tongue you had an urge to dislike, but realize it's possibly the best thing it's ever touched before and then find yourself making that flavor linger on your tongue longer than it can possibly stay.
It is here that I beg of you to answer me one question. Would you prefer that I lavish you with the intimate details of my view on this world experience or that I gloss it over and compress it into a quick and quiet travel diary?
You know you've only one answer, but you must answer anyway.
