Crossing the central Apennino mountains
Meanwhile, it has been my desire to see every square inch, or centimeter, of Italy since I first fell in love with this amazing place. However, this trip, I observed something out of character.
Fermignano (Le Marche)
Urbino (Le Marche)
Urbino (Le Marche)
I was homesick.
Abundance of sweet, fresh cherries
Castello della Pieve (Le Marche)
I have no memory of ever being homesick. I have traveled on my own, without my folks, since I was a fairly small child, and I do not ever remember looking forward to going back home. I always found it interesting when people say what a great trip they had, "but there is no place like home. Home Sweet Home." Only one time a few years ago do I remember being excited to return to Los Angeles, and that was because I was dating someone I was pretty crazy about and could not wait to see him again.
Urbino (Le Marche), Italy
Mercatale sul Metauro (Le Marche)
Sant'Angelo in Vado (Le Marche)
Only five days away from home this time, yet every day I longed for my home. I missed my people; Mabel; my daily rituals and routines (never thought I would say that); my bed, a matrimoniale (two twin beds zipped together and not long enough for my altezza (height) but I missed it nonetheless); my yoga mat and hoop; certain routes I take; certain people I see daily; a certain someone who gives me a juicy kiss.
Gubbio (Umbria) (above 2 fotos)
I could not help but wonder: What is wrong with me? What happened to my sense of adventure and my love for exploration? Maybe it had to do with the space I was in. This was a first for me.
Lifelong friends and local men of Mercatale sul Metauro (Le Marche)
Old bridge and house at Mercatale sul Metauro
Without needing to figure it all out, what I observed this past week confirms for me that home is where the heart is, and Florence, Italy, is my home.
Growing old together
I am home!