A little over two years ago, I embarked on a journey that was life altering to say the least. My six months in Europe became a part of who I was, and ultimately has shaped me into who I am today and who I’ll be in the future. Having been back on the travel wagon for a week now, I realize that this blog has, in a way, become a part of who I am as well. This whole thing started as a way to keep family and friends up to date with my travels, but somewhere along the way it became a necessity for me to fully embrace each and every one of my experiences. I’ve re-read these pages multiple times, re-living the experiences and emotions that I’m able to channel through words and photos on a screen.
For those that followed my journey 2 years ago, welcome back! I hope to capture my new experiences as well as before. To my new friends I’ve been blessed to make since I left my backpack for a briefcase, feel free to scroll through my previous posts, perhaps we have some travel experiences in common.
Without further ado, let’s do this:
The next 3 weeks will most likely take me through 3 continents, an Italian wedding, 10 kilograms of pasta, 13 cones of gelato, a Turkish riot or two, and at least one ride on a camel, preferably on a Wednesday. None of this would be possible, however, if a series of events didn’t all go exactly to plan.
Getting to Vasto, the Adriatic coastal town home to my family and the location of the wedding this trip was planned around, involved a 7am post-Lake Tahoe wedding wakeup call, a drive to Sacramento, flight to LA, race to work to grab my things, a mad dash back to the airport, an LA to Rome direct flight, a train to the closest metro stop to my bus, and a full on sprint to the bus station, backpacks and all, that sat waiting to take me to Vasto. I couldn’t help but think of how, 2 years ago, my journey from the airport was not as fortunate, as my wallet was stolen before I’d even arrived at my hostel. This time, though, being the seasoned traveler I like to think of myself as, I’d made it, money and all. The sight of all my family waiting on the bus, looking like they’d just gone through the same frantic dash, made it all the more enjoyable. Somehow, someway, we’d all made it from Sacramento, LA, and New York to Bella Italia…Andiamo!