Memories of Italy

My daughter Alex was fortunate enough to be afforded the opportunity to study in Milan this past semester.  While there were many bumps in the road for her as she maneuvered a new continent, a new culture, a new country and a new language, my husband, our  youngest daughter and myself had the perfect excuse to visit and spend two weeks in Italy this past spring.
A doctor's receptionist recently posed the question "Where would you go if I gave you a ticket to anywhere in the world?"  My answer: "Back to Italy!" 
Back to Venice with her watery passage ways, crowed with tourist and vendors.  Her darkened labyrinths intoxicated with  mystery and whispered dangers of a long ago time.   Who stepped on these very stones so many centuries ago? Perhaps Marco Polo before he began his travels in China.  Or Galileo while teaching mathematics and shaking up the  world  and the Church with his heretical astronomy discoveries.  Or possibly the Doges and their Courtesans as they regaled themselves with finery and indulged in any pleasure that caught their fickle fancy.  I could wander these magical mazes for months, drunk on the sights and smells of this glorious city as I visit magnificent Church after magnificent Church.  Museum after museum.  Palazzo after palazzo.  Enchanted with the earthy smells  of water and mold woven like a faded tapestry amidst  the heady aromas of spicy delicacies enticing enough to bring out the lascivious nature in the most mild mannered of traveler.  Ahh, Venice!  Ahh, Italy!  My return can not be soon enough.