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In my Italian dreams

written by robin

Venice Canals from the Campanile Tower

As you may know, one of my dreams/goals is to move to Italy.  I often imagine what my life would be like over in Italy.  And having the vivid imagination that I do, my dreams are often fillied with scenarios played out in Italy.  Here are a few that I am willing to share.


In my Italian dreams…


I see myself shopping in the food markets, for the first time-my eyes wide with colorful pleasure, struggling to make sense of the handwritten signs and conversions, not knowing what to buy.  A stranger to the men and women behind their boxes of produce as I skittishly decide what to purchase. Years later, I have made friends with my local shopkeepers and they greet me with large Italian smiles and share time-honored family secret recipes while just throwing the needed ingredients into my market bag.

In my Italian dreams…

I see myself walking into my local cafe for the first time as a resident, yet a stranger, the sounds of Italian chatter and clanking china cups against saucers and the smell of strong espresso flling the air.  Everyone a stranger to me and sizing me up and down.  Eventually, my barista greets me with my *regular* every morning café, the conversations become something I understand, rather than just lovely backgound noise and I am afforded a welcoming *Ciao, Robin*  by my Italian friends that I have now accumulated.  I sit with them and enjoy my morning, speaking and understanding my new language.

In my Italian dreams…

Our house starts as a bare shell, old and peeling with a patina only a true Italian can appreciate. My canvas before me, I hop from flea market to flea market throughout Tuscany, picking up old Italian treasure after treasure and lugging them back, somtimes on the bus or train, to fill the empty space.

My bedroom dressed with an old rusty, peeling iron bed, covered in simple Italian monogrammed antique linens, old engravings of Italian towns hung on the stone walls, and a large armoire.  My kitchen has a large farm table and lots of eclectic hand-made Italian pottery- complete with nicks out of the rims.

In my Italian dreams…

I picture family and friends coming to visit, both old and new, both American and Italian.  We cook and enjoy large dinners around a table on a terrace on the deep, green grass, under blossoming trees. Large bowls of herbed olives, prosciutto and melon, figs and gorgonzola, a neighbor cooks a fresh pasta and sauce and joins us.  We enjoy many bottles of local Tuscan red wine while eating and storytelling into the wee hours. We finish off with our homemade limoncello.

In my Italian dreams…

We enjoy train travel all over Europe.  We visit our friends in Provence and Paris and vacation on the Riviera.  We go north to Venice and south to my friends in Calabria and Catanzaro.  We island-hop in Greece and ferry to Morrocco.  Eventually we see Spain, Portugal, Amsterdam, Brussels, Prague, Croatia, and Bavaria.  Exploring new languages, diverse cultures and local cuisine keep us happy and entertained for years.

In my Italian Dreams…

We love helping our Italian friends and neighbors by picking their olives and making olive oil. We help harvest their grapes and make wine.  We are invited to take part in the fruits of their wares at the family dinner table.  We are always presented with a few bottles of each as our generous gift for helping out.

In my Italian Dreams.

Do you ever dream of living in another country?  If your an expat, how have your dreams compared to the reality? 
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