Trieste to Aosta, Italy /
Thun, Switzerland

On a trip of this length, energy and enthusiasm are bound to dip. It’s been great to have a few chances to recharge, but at times in the moment, this final stage felt like killing time between seeing more friends. Haphazardly chosen on the fly as convenient places to break long journeys, some of these last few stops were not places I had any familiarity, and as I realised towards the end, it was a unique opportunity not just to see more sides of Italy than the ones I know, but to see and experience places special to people I care about.
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San Marino /
Bologna to Venice, Italy

Even if I haven’t visited most of northern Italy before, you could say that it’s a known quantity. Everyone knows someone who’s visited or wants to visit. Everyone knows how good the food is. Everyone’s probably learned at least some of the history in school — whether it be about artistic figures, religion, war, the Middle Ages, the Renaissance… Much has been said, and there’s not much for me to add.

I won’t lie, my main interests don’t exactly lie in these things, even if I can enjoy or have appreciation for them. What brings me to this area, and what’s kept me going in spite of peak season crowds and extreme heat, are friends: one who moved back to Italy from Canada, one who happens to be in town, Italian friends from Canada getting married and all our mutual friends in town for that wedding, and one guiding me through her hometown in absentia. Same goes for Switzerland, a detour tacked onto the end to visit some more friends again. That made for a grand but overwhelming time of reunions and highlight after highlight threatening to blur into each other.

Most of those highlights are ones that I think best remain in our memories. But in between, there was some exploring too!
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Sicily, Italy

It’s my third day in Palermo (of 11 in Sicily) and I’m puzzled. The sights are famous. The pictures are beautiful. The food is everything you hear about from Sicily. The evening brings the city to life and the crowds come out.

I’ve made my way down the pedestrianized Maqueda, checked out the famous cathedral, the Palatine Chapel with its golden mosaic art, and even made my way up to nearby Monreale for even more mosaics. I’ve walked through the markets. I’ve gotten real-time advice from friends on what food to try — arancini, pasta alla norma, cannoli, granita, brioche col gelato, pani ca meusa (spleen sandwich)… I’ve taken the train to Cefalù and climbed all the way up to the top of La Rocca, then all the way back down again to dive into the azure water sandwiching the town to said rock.

So yeah, I’ve done all the stuff. But something feels…off. The heat is stifling. The jet lag lingers, I’m disengaged, and anxiety keeps me awake even longer at night. The food recommendations may be solid, but the places I’m getting them at aren’t hitting the spot. The crowds are everywhere. All of that can be managed. As I sipped on an overpriced limoncello spritz by the shore, trying to cool off while watching the world go by, seeing neighbourhood residents chatting it up, I suddenly felt an odd sense of enjoyment. It finally dawned on me: as pretty as the pictures were, I was focusing on the wrong stuff.

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