This past June, I adventured off to Italy before I returned to the United States for the remainder of summer. I was struck by how different the country feels from France. The difference is palpable. This is not all that surprising as the roots, the language and the history are very different from those of France.
As I am writing this, a flood of memories is pouring through my mind. Memories that cannot quite be put into words, as they are more emotions than anything else, which have changed me for the better. These memories are the souvenirs that returned home with me, aside from the photos and the Italian edibles (that have long since disappeared from my shelves). They will stay with me forever as a reminder of the carefree days spent under the Ligurian sun.