small town Italy: even if you happen to be wandering the streets alone, it feels like everyone is watching you (because they are). this is M’s parents’ hometown, on the ionian sea: isca sull’ ionio.
after a long train ride, we dragged our luggage from the stazione through the tiny town towards the hotel. our room wasn’t ready, but we were offered a coffee (by the only english speaking person in Tropea). the room was worth the wait: it was on the top floor, with a terrace bigger than the room itself and overlooking the main piazza. in the opposite direction, through the cracked buildings, was a hazy view of Calabria’s mountains.
when compared to other french cities, nice is especially unpretentious and laid back. each day had three standard components: fruit, baguettes, beach. it was our only stop in france and i took full advantage of the patisserie across the street from the hotel every single morning.