I've decided to post my journal entries from my trip to Italia this summer. But before we move on to Day One, I think it's important to have some back story:
My grandmother on my dad's side has been wanting to take me to Italy ever since I could walk. She's not Italian, but my Grandpa Frank (her second husband) was born and raised in a little village on a giant Tuscan mountain. When he was younger, he came to New York for a job and ended up finding my grandma. Our family ended up in Florida, and they spent the next few decades of their life together alternating between the baking Florida sun and high Italian altitudes. They would live six months here, six months there and travel to other fun places in between. Grandpa Frank passed away about six years ago, but his lifelong dream was to move our entire family out to Luscignano to live the good life.
"He was so proud of his little village," grandma says. She hasn't been back to Luscignano in over a year, and claims she wouldn't have planned to come without me this summer. So, grandma is my tour guide for two weeks, as my graduation present is booked at every tourist's fantasy, and some places off the radar.