Stopover in Oslo

One of the nice things of traveling trans-continentally fairly often is finding a place to do a little stop over. This time around I decided to stop in Norway for a few days on my way from the States back to Italy. 

Though I only stayed in Oslo, Norway was breathtaking. And I've heard it only gets better the further north you go. 

If you find your way to Oslo, stay in the Grünerløkka neighborhood. It's hip and cool and has awesome street art (ie: that psychedelic peacock). 

Visit their National Gallery to see Munch's Scream and Rodin's Thinker. 

Go to the Viking Ship Museum to see, well.. a viking ship. 

There are beautiful parks and waterfronts to stroll along. 

Anyways.. Norway is definetly one of those places I'll be returning to some day. 

A Greek Weekend

When I visit Greece, it's easy for me to see why the ancients were so mystified by it.

The landscape speaks.

The weather is unpredictable.

One can feel the classical elements swirling around in the air. 

No wonder the ancient Greeks had to make up all of their myths to explain a place so wild and primal yet, at the same time, mesmerizing and amazing.

It's hay season

For those people who know me really well, they know how ironic it is when I say I grew up on a farm. And that's as much as I'm going to say about that right now.

I spent a few days in the Casentino valley of Tuscany last week. The pastures were full and the grass was tall and some was in the process of being cut and baled into hay. I couldn't help but think of my childhood, when I would run through the grass as tall (or taller) as I was. The scent of drying hay that passed through the valley reminded me of sitting on the front porch of my childhood home in the late evening, enjoying that very same scent. I watched a well tanned Italian farmer on a tractor raking the hay into rows about to be baled and remembered learning to drive a machine much like that one, well before I could even drive a car. I watched the farmer pass back and forth across his field in the summer heat and wondered if my dad was doing the very same thing back in Arkansas. And if he remembered to wear sunscreen this time. 

Villa Mornings

"I live in a villa in Italy." 

It's hard to believe when I walk into a view like this. So sometimes I have to say it out loud just so I believe it.