Ciao Italia
And so, the Red Sea parted and my Ryanair flight landed in Roma. After a very late night (and early morning) of carousing around Paris, the flight was a brutal one. But, one step into the Splendide Royal Hotel across from the Borghese Gardens and all was right with the world once again.
What can I say? Missy K and I like being treated like princesses! (Where's my tiara?) And, happily enough, our twosome morphed into a Three Musketeers scenario, when our mutual friend Lo showed up to share in the Italiano fun.
From strolling through the ruins in the Forum to throwing three coins in the Trevi Fountain; rooftop drinks at our hotel terrace, looking over the hills of Rome and St. Peter's Basilica, to shopping for rings and things at Liliana Michilli; flirting with devilish Irish men at the Excelsior's bar to a dinner at the Trastevere district's Trattoria Monti, where moanworthy fare was joyfully consumed (including a bewitching platter of delicately fried sausage-stuffed olives, artichoke hearts and seductive vanilla cream), while an adventure unravelled featuring fishnet stockings, one of the aformentioned rings, as well as several handsome Italiano gentleman patrons and servers (I'll let you ponder on the possibilities involved in the latter...) - it was truly la dolce vita!
To think - there was also a brilliant prank, another beautiful ring, shoe shopping and kisses from a gorgeous Signore to be had.
I hated to leave Rome. But leave we did - sans Lo, who headed to South Africa for safari. (As if the animale in Italia weren't enough to keep her entertained?) Thankfully though, the blow of leaving Rome for Milan was definitely softened by a 1st class train ride up north. I was particularly enchanted by the dining car.
It evoked another era - and offered up a tasty three-course lunch with vino - as we chugged up through Firenze, Bologna and alike.
Milano wasn't as exciting as Roma, but I had to admit that I did like the view from our room at the Carlton Baglioni Hotel.
More so, listening to a rehearsal of Turnadot at La Scala and taking in DaVinci's Last Supper were definite highlights of the stay. But sometimes Missy K and I found ourselves wanting to give up the tourism ghost and just tuck into our hotel's lobby bar to sip on Espresso Macchiatos and nibble on buttery cookies. (No, not Pepperidge Farm Milanos!)
Indeed, high-design shopping aside, the city was a more low-key affair than Paris or Rome. That said, it was the pause that refreshed - and put us in close proximity to a breathtaking daytrip destination...
Lake Como.
And, no, we didn't run into George. His loss.