I neglected to post about it earlier.
It was perfect.
I was nervous. Bub and I get grouchy when we travel to foreign countries overnight and then have to trek to the hotel only to learn that our room isn’t ready and why don’t we explore on our own for a bit until the proper check in time? Well it was different with Italy because after the 6:45pm flight which landed us in Munich at 8:45am the next morning and then the flight to Naples which got us there in the late morning/early afternoon, there was the hour or so train ride to Sorrento (our second city destination of the trip, although we wished we were “there by now”) and then a good 45 minute bus ride to Positano. It’s around 3pm at this time. And we aren’t grouchy. And although no couple is perfect, I felt like our honeymoon was.
Lots of sunshine and heat made up for the overcast and drizzley day which was the weather for our wedding (we barely concerned ourselves with it). The swimming was the best of our lives so far. The winery tour in Florence, the private cooking class, the romantic evenings overlooking the scenic Amalfi coast really captured what this trip was.
Not a vacation. Not a European trip. Not time off. Our honeymoon. One and only.
We ate like there was no tomorrow. We drank and were merry–we only had one real drunken night because we wanted to appreciate everything–from the celebratory champagne to the house red wine to the sparkling light beer.
We saw David, the famous statue who made me an official art appreciator, if there is such a term. We saw famous paintings and learned about Da Vinci–and not because of the bestselling book.
I was withdrawn and melancholy with bittersweet feelings on our ride to Italy. Time on the plane does that to you. But it wasn’t until we finally put our clothes in drawers at the first hotel we stayed at that Peter realized that I was bothered by our big day–our mere few hours in the limelight dressed up for all our family and friends was now a new memory; I needed to hear something positive. I needed some cheer.
Bub said: Look out the window. And I did. I saw out for miles, to the right and left, little terra cotta rooftops, rock, cliff, a blue-green sea you wonder about when you see it in a brochure for vacations. It really is that color. I felt the breeze on my cheeks, it playing into my hair slightly. I felt the warm sun on my scalp and heard children splashing in the ocean many feet steeply below. I turned to him and he said: Look. Just look. Don’t miss out on this. We’re married.
Yes we are.