Im dreading waking up tomorrow, leaving Tollegno at 10:45, arriving at Santhia by 11:30 and catching a train at 11:45. transfering from Milano to Firenze, then to Perugia, then finally Assissi, taking a grand total of 6 hours.
In Italy
With all my baggage
Alone.
To a family who speaks only Italian, for two whole weeks. Attending a special languages school, writing reports on my experiences, The Renaissance and The French Revolution. Learning Italian Grammar, table manners and hopefully raising my count (from a potential 7).
I dont know how to even begin to express what this three weeks with these 16 people did for me- ive made friends with people i know i would never have even talked to, experienced freakish hail storms, had the dream romance, developed a strong love for Italian leather, lost my phone, bought a phone, wasted money, bought countless scarfes and tights, gossiped all night long, been inspired to start cooking and gardening, danced and danced, cried for hours, laughed for hours, met random english and americans in the oddest of situations...
I have an Italian family, they welcomed me with open arms two years ago, and although the language barrier is strong, i feel so close to them. next year, i am returning. The year after, my mama, brother and i might even rent a house here for the holidays.
Italy is my favourite place in the world. One day, i will live here.
Anyway, all this sentimentality is making me cry.
I really do miss home; real salad, the Adelaide Metro, The Balls, my family and friends.
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