Tuesday, December 30, 2003
Italy!
Italy Italy Italy!
We booked hotels today. Beautiful hotels. Smallish, elegant hotels. Hotels with good views. Hotels that are close to the Spanish steps in Rome and the Academie in Florence.
I'm so excited.
The richness of history in such a small geographical area fills me with wonderment. The Sistine Chapel only blocks away from the Colosseum; the Uffizi steps from Il Duomo. Archeological treasures right next to artistic masterpieces. The old and the new, all meshed together, connected by winding cobblestone streets, lined with dinky cafes and haute couture. (My guide book mentions that our hotel in Rome is a few streets away from Valentino and Bulgari and quite near the Spanish Steps.)
Now I'm really getting excited. The promise of such a romantic honeymoon tingles my skin. My rose-colored glasses are firmly on my face; I have no time to hear about gypsies and thieves and pickpockets.
Honeymoon. Even that word is gooey with love. "Honey" conjures up images of sweetness, warmth, a silky-smoothness; "moon" . . . well, if anyone thinks the moon isn't the ultimate symbol of romance, I'd like to talk to him. It's so big and bright and round and full . . . full of promise.
And that's the best part about the honeymoon, I think. It bursts with the promise of marriage, the fullness of joy that two people can have in one another.
I am definitely gooey with romance. Pardon me.
We booked hotels today. Beautiful hotels. Smallish, elegant hotels. Hotels with good views. Hotels that are close to the Spanish steps in Rome and the Academie in Florence.
I'm so excited.
The richness of history in such a small geographical area fills me with wonderment. The Sistine Chapel only blocks away from the Colosseum; the Uffizi steps from Il Duomo. Archeological treasures right next to artistic masterpieces. The old and the new, all meshed together, connected by winding cobblestone streets, lined with dinky cafes and haute couture. (My guide book mentions that our hotel in Rome is a few streets away from Valentino and Bulgari and quite near the Spanish Steps.
Now I'm really getting excited. The promise of such a romantic honeymoon tingles my skin. My rose-colored glasses are firmly on my face; I have no time to hear about gypsies and thieves and pickpockets.
Honeymoon. Even that word is gooey with love. "Honey" conjures up images of sweetness, warmth, a silky-smoothness; "moon" . . . well, if anyone thinks the moon isn't the ultimate symbol of romance, I'd like to talk to him. It's so big and bright and round and full . . . full of promise.
And that's the best part about the honeymoon, I think. It bursts with the promise of marriage, the fullness of joy that two people can have in one another.
I am definitely gooey with romance. Pardon me.
