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. :)