Venice is nothing like you’ve ever seen before. It is literally a water wonderland. Kind of like Disney World on its own island. Grams and I enjoyed great sea food, water-side cafes, gondola rides and window shopping.

Saturday we did a whirlwind tour of Murano, Burano and Torcello. Murano, the island of glass, is home to a swarm of glass-blowing factories. In fact, a man hand-pulled a horse from a blob of molten glass right in front of our eyes. It was magnificent.

There must be a little village of petite women with half-moon shaped glasses and an abundance of thread on the island of Burano because all we saw were these little women working away, sewing beautiful lace handkerchiefs and embroideries.

The island of Torcello was my favorite—there were no tiny women or glass blowings but everywhere you turned there was a pretty little bridge, or a cathedral, or a stone carving. Needless to say Grams and I had several photo-opps.

Today we had the day to relax. We visited the Rialto bridge and San Marco square in the morning. The Rialto bridge is a very old bridge in Venice that is now filled with market shops and a bunch of men throwing around these squishy balls that splat on the pavement and then balloon back up into the shape of a pig, and alien or a tomato (ha). Sometimes these men sells knock-off Prada or Luis Vuitton bags…and as it turns out that is illegal. So when the polizzia comes around, they let out a few whistles—like a warning call—and they all run and scatter. I can actually recognize the sound of the warning-whistle, so even I know when there are cops around. It has been so tempting to try and sound a false alarm. Oh, if only I could whistle. :)

This afternoon Grams and I took a gondola ride. There are little men everywhere dressed in red and white striped shirts, black pants and straw hats—they really play up the gondola rides. We booked a ride through an agency, so we went on this tiny little black boat with 4 other people. As it turns out, the boat really only should have held 5 passengers. And guess who was the odd ball out and had to sit at the tippy-top of the boat? Me. Oh my luck. I played a balancing act—because with my slightest movement the boat would tilt and the gondola driver would yell “Middle, middle!” Good grief. He could have been a drill sergent. Because I was sitting down on the opposite end of the narrow, small boat, from Grams, the gondola driver was really my only option for conversation. So what did I ask him? “Hey, how many times have you fallen off this thing?” He looked at me, perplexed, and rolled his eyes. So I decided to shut up, thinking he would throw me off the boat at any moment, until he replied “Three.” So our driver has fallen off a few times. Not reassuring. Before the ride was over the paddle happened to splash some large waves up on my lap. I don’t think it was an accident.

After the gondola ride and on our way to lunch, Grams and I decided to catch some shade. Little did I know a pigeon would decide to take a little potty break in the rafter above me. We were standing in the shade of the Doge’s Palace when—bomb’s away—I felt a splat on my foot. I looked up and saw the tiny little butt of a pigeon, with its tail feathers spread. Today was not my day.

Our night in Venice, Grams and I packed our bags and decided to get a quiet dinner in the hotel cafe. We shared pizza margherita (I am SO going to be a food snob when I get home to NC—Italian pizza, pasta and gelato has changed my life forever). As I went to take a sip of water while enjoying our pizza—what do you know—but I missed my mouth entirely and dumped the ENTIRE glass of water in my lap. Grams thought this was so funny that she spilled her pizza all the way down the front of her shirt. We were a sight to see, that is for sure.

Well Grams and I hit Paris in the morning. Hopefully France can handle this dynamic duo. :D

Grams landed safe and sound in Florence. I am so thrilled she is coming to stay with me for another week in Italy and France! She was so excited to get out and see Firenze that she accidentally smooshed her finger in the hotel doorway. So our first stop together in Firenze was the farmacia for an ice pack. Hopefully we will be able to make it through a whole week without wiping out on the cobblestone and smashing anymore fingers.

I made sure Grams’s finger was iced and we stopped at a sidewalk cafe and grabbed some lunch (petite panini and cappuccini). YUM. Can’t wait to tour her around and show her how pretty my little city is.

After lunch, I took my final exam in Italian and said ciao to Luca, my Italian professor. He gave me a proper goodbye, a hug and a kiss on each cheek (in true Italian fashion). I must have looked surprised at such a sweet goodbye, because he reassured me that kisses on the cheeks are how Italians say farewell, and by no means was it sexual harassment. Va bene.

All that is left is to head to my ceramics studio for a final critique and to pick up my mini-masterpieces. I will miss my pottery wheel. We had some good times together: accidentally chucking some clay across the room, spraying slip all over my face, and smacking a girl in the chest with a loose piece of clay not well attached to the wheel. My professor thinks I am a total dork (and she is probably right). Needless to say I am not going to be kissing her cheeks goodbye.

Tonight I am taking Grams to my favorite pizza place: Gusta Pizza. Who knows what will happen later. But adventures await. :)

The Amalfi Coast is a perfect little piece of lemon-loving paradise. Our weekend getaway began with Capri—the land of limoncello. I know I exaggerate often—but they had lemons the size of my head. Literally. And I have a big head! The little shops in Capri offered us handmade sandals, homemade limoncello and soft-spun linen. Everything oozed freshness.

Sami, Maddie and I toured the island of Capri and Anacapri by boat and visited the Blue Grotto—one of the 7 wonders of Europe. From our big tour boat we were plopped onto a little paddle boat with a tan, curly-chest haired, opera-singing Italian man who swung us into the Grotto. The entrance to the Grotto is only 3 feet high, so in order to enter we all had to lay down…in a tiny wooden boat…with our singing captain (clearly, he was trying to make a good tip). The Blue Grotto is essentially a dark cave, and when the sun hits the water just right it illuminates the Mediterranean like a glow in the dark lamp. Everything shimmers turquoise and teal—it is absolutely breath-taking.

Saturday we spent the day in Positano on the black pebbled beaches. Now, don’t let this fool you. Black sand/pebble beaches sound all neat, but it hurts tremendously to walk on. But the crystal clear waves we swam in made the painful walk to the sea all worthwhile.

After swimming and sunbathing a bit, we took another boat tour around Positano. This time, we hopped in sea to reach some tall cliffs and cliff jump. There were two options: an 8-foot jump and a 32-foot jump. Now I did the 8-foot jump, piece of cake. Its like hopping off a diving board. I wasn’t going to do the tall one, until our guide climbed up a narrow path, covered in moss, sharp rocks and ant hills and lept off the cliff with nothing but a shout and a few flicks of his arms. As soon as he hit the water I knew he was crazy. But I wanted to do it, too.

So I climbed the narrow, sharp and steep path up the cliff to the jumping spot and waited in line to jump. There were only 2 girls in front of me—and they both jumped incorrectly. If you don’t jump straight in, you get hurt (duh). Both times the girls came up fear-stricken because they bruised their butts from not straightening out in time. By the time I stepped up I knew if I had a chance to think about it, the logical Kathleen would come out and say “What the heck are you thinking?!” So I didn’t think. I took two steps back, got a running start and jumped. It was the most amazing 32-foot free-fall into the Med.

Sunday we hit Pompeii for one last tour before we returned to Florence. Our tour guide was a cute little old man wearing crisp white slacks, a matching sweater around his shoulder and leather loafers. When living in Italy, you come to find that even hiking requires leather shoes and a nice pair of pants. Our guide showed us around Pompeii, showed us the ruin, the ash, the plaster molds of victims of Vesuvius’s eruption and the several beautiful ruins. But nothing caught our attention more than the good-ole’ brothel in the back of the city. Our guide called it the red-light district. Apparently Pompeii was known for its women—and sailors could come off their ships and choose their women as if they were ordering off a menu. GROSS. But the funniest thing about Pompeii is that because these sailors did not always speak Italian, they could not read the road signs to get to the brothels. So what did the kind city of Pompeii do? Why they carved penises into the cobblestone streets to point and direct the sailors to the women, of course! I was stunned to see this. Absolutely stunned.

This weekend has been my favorite trip so far. I can now check off eating homemade lemon granitas, witnessing the luminescence of the Blue Grotto, falling 32 feet into the Med and seeing raunchy Pompeii off my bucket list. :)

Rome was a whirlwind. Saturday we saw the Colosseum, the Vatican, the Sistine Chapel and St. Peter’s Basilica all in five hours. I enjoyed the Sistine Chapel the best, but that is mostly because I had to go into stealth-mode and take pictures of the beautiful Michelangelos without being caught. Mission success.  (And I didn’t feel bad stealing pictures of this gorgeous monument—it turns out you can’t take photos because the copyrights belong to the Japanese. Weird, huh?).

When it came time to check into our hotel in the heart of Rome, we were side-tracked by a Euro Pride parade passing down the streets. Turns out, the day I go to Rome is Europe’s Gay Pride day. And what do you know? I got to see Lady Gaga at the Euro Pride concert Saturday night. It was a bit tight amongst all 20,000 people in the crowd—but so worth going to see all the pink haired, glitter-covered, flamboyant folks and penis balloons in the crowd.

Sunday we toured the rest of Rome’s beautiful monuments—the Pantheon, Spanish Steps, Four Rivers fountain, Trevi Fountain and Victory Square. Trevi Fountain was by far my favorite. I threw my coin into the clear blue fountain—the legend says it will bring me back to Rome. I can only hope.