A hot autumn week in Italy. Train rides where I wrote in my old-fashioned journal, stared out the window at fields and hills, and sometimes got into heated debates with my companion.
The food was wonderful, the coffee even better and the gelato to die for. The heat was no joke and the amount of tourists in some places was unbelievable.
Venice, Florence, and then on to Cinque Terre - village-hopping by train with lots of tourists, but more space to breathe than in crowded Florence. We walked around picturesque villages on this rocky coast, cooled off in the sea. Sun, sand and salt water eased our weary souls and aggravated the blisters from walking over 20 000 steps per day. A fresa colada on a hilltop overlooking the sunset over the Mediterranean was a dreamscape. From the train we glimpsed the white marble mountains of Carrara.
Pisa was squeezed in on our last night. The aim was too see the damn tower and then crash into a hotel bed. But we world-weary travellers were taken by the strangeness and awe surrounding that leaning tower and the basilica. The smooth marble and the green lawns were cool and peaceful late in the evening. We lingered - deep in thought, weariness and a little melancholia. We laughed at tourists taking mandatory pictures of themselves in funny poses with the tower. Then we laughed and took those same pictures of ourselves.
There is an odd comfort and warmth in sharing the same ridiculous joke with strangers from all corners of the earth.
A leisurely meal at an outdoor restaurant as the warm darkness fell and the lit facade of the tower leaned towards us. We shared spritzes and the best moments of our journey before walking back slowly and discovering that Pisa is an unexpectedly charming city.
As if Italy wasn't enough, the plane that took us towards our home in the North flew over all the tallest Alps - mountain lakes, rivers, summit snow glittering in the sun - and continued over Prague and the meandering coastlines of the Baltic Sea. I got my money's worth from this European trip.