When in Rome
When In Rome
“I came to Italy with the intent of becoming a bag lady; then I let it go…”
The Italian excursion was to be the trip of a lifetime. To go to Italy is an incredible journey, but to experience it with my best friend, my mother, that's an adventure.
I'll be honest I was going to Italy with pseudo lofty aspirations. One primarily being to snag a swanky Italian purse in Milan.
I've recently graduated from college; this trip was a graduation gift. I know it's immature to go to Europe with a pretense of buying myself a souvenir, just call me a millennial.
The itinerary was to arrive in Milan, spend a half day there and take a train to Florence for two days. Then, a train to Rome. Coming from New York City I hadn't expected much of a discrepancy in fashion allure, but I knew Milan would have its unique charm.
Without sounding like a New York Millennial snob, I wasn't impressed with Milan’s 'bounty': the expensive stores were no different than the ones on Madison Ave, (I thought at least Dolce would have better deals). The stores that I usually frequent such as Zara and H&M had similar pieces to what I was eyeing in NY. It was cute to see original flagships like Borsalino. My father appreciated seeing me in a hat. Mum and I ended up finding a beautiful spot with the birds, sipping our diet cokes. I was quasi-disappointed that I didn't find my 'it bag' yet, but I figured Florence would be the place, it's known for its craftsmanship and leather making.
Florence was what I envisioned when I pictured Italy; it's beautiful, and quaint with an old-world charm, the shops are rustic, yet very clean and fresh. We booked a guided tour of the Gallery di Accademia to see the famous Michelangelo's “David."
After the tour mum and I were free to roam, we saw the Pitti Palace, home of the Medici Family. We sipped on diet Cokes, and we still found no bag. We visited the leather district, and I almost fell for an 'it bag.' The Italians are good salesmen, one of them tried convincing me this bag was made exclusively for him, he showed me how it could be converted into a messenger bag, with strap adjustments and all the bells and whistles a girl could want. The leather was like butter. Then my peripheral vision caught sight of the same bag a few stalls down. I'm from New York-we were bred to finagle.
We spent the next day tasting wine and cheese at a vineyard in Tuscany. Although I was having such a great time, better than I could've scripted for our itinerary, I found myself always looking over my shoulder in pursuit of that elusive 'it bag.'
Thursday evening, we arrived at Roma Termini, and again I found myself eyeing the stores in pursuit of my bag. No luck in that department; however, everything else was going beautifully, we arrived at our hotel and unpacked. Within the hour, I reserved tickets for the following day's Colosseum tours. Warning: the Colosseum tour itself can wipe a girl out: always book a tour with a group. Nothing feels better than passing hordes of people and walking right in through the entrance feeling like Caesar himself.
We purchased mini Colosseums, leather belts, shawls bearing Dolce logos and other knickknacks. All in all, Rome was as I anticipated, the structures were so eerily archaic I felt as if I was stepping into ancient Roman times. Our tour guide informed us the creation of this type of architecture doesn't even exist anymore.
Oh, and we tried Italian gelato, twice because Italian cup sizes are like a quarter of what us gluttonous Americans are used to, Mum and I had no problem going back for seconds, ironically my favorite flavor was a dairy free dark chocolate. It didn't taste at all like sorbet, more like a dreamy dark, version of a frozen chocolate brownie. That's the difference between ice cream and gelato; ice cream is cream based. Gelato is milk based, lighter while still indulgent. Mum's refined palate appreciated it.
Our final trip in Rome was to see the Trevi Fountain; there I would make a special wish. The plan for the rest of the trip was to relax by the pool. Our flight was to be at 4 A.M. Rome time, and our airline warned us to be at the airport 3.5 hours prior, which meant we were not meant to sleep that night. Our new French friends invited us to come with them in their posh little Audi and have one last trip to central Rome. Naturally, we chose to revisit the Trevi Fountain. It was there that I felt so calm, so at peace. Mum and I got some great pictures, we bid our new friends adieu and headed back to the street area where we would catch a taxi. As we were walking, we noticed all these night vendors opening up shop.
That's when I saw them; not one but two gorgeous Prada bags. The street vendors were anxious to make a sale and offered me both bags for a fantastic deal. I don't know if they're 100% authentic, but they're genuine leather (the vendor lit a match to them), and so far, they've gotten many compliments.
When I finally let go and decided to live in the moment, that's when I was granted my dream bag. If I'm going to leave Italy with a lesson du-jour, it's going to be to relax, and start living in the moment- whether I'm roaming in Europe or swiveling in my desk chair at work because when you least expect it, that's when the magic happens.
