by Kenzie Perkins, director of Research and Travel
During an August trip to the Cinque Terre, I attempted to hike to all five of the coastal villages in a single day. Read more about that here.
On that hike, I crossed paths with a man. Not just a regular man. Oh no. This was one of those “descendants of Roman gods”, to quote Under the Tuscan Sun (the movie, not the book).
The interaction went something like this:
“It’s so hot. Maybe Birkenstock sandals weren’t the best idea. What should I eat for dinner? Pasta. Definitely pasta. With gelato. And an entire bottle of wine. I hope Italy doesn’t turn me into an alcoholic.
Wait. I think I hear someone coming. It’s another human! Thank the lord it’s not a bear. Are there bears here? I haven’t seen someone on this stretch of the hike in ages! Maybe they all got eaten by bears.
He’s coming down from the mountaintop, and he doesn’t appear to be too sweaty. Maybe I’m getting close to the end!
He’s getting closer. I never know what to do in this situation. Do I smile? Do I say hello? Ciao? Look down and pretend not to notice?
Man, how is he not sweaty at all? I’m pouring buckets from places I didn’t even know had pores.
Oh my god. He’s beautiful. Now I definitely don’t know what to say. Just smile, self. You can’t mess up a smile.
*awkwardly smiles at potential soul mate as he walks past with a brief “ciao”
He said ciao! Say something back, self!
Self, those are not words. They are sounds. You just yelled sounds at a beautiful stranger, who likely now thinks you are deranged. But I am proud of you for putting yourself out there. Good job.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I did not meet my future husband.
Go Travel, and Travel Fearless
Andi Brown, Once in a Lifetime Travel
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