Crumb-y at Buying Bread

I can’t figure out how to buy bread. I, being a woman who is not afraid to admit she is nearly completely sustained by the simple joy of complex carbs, am in the midst of a crisis. So here’s what happened. I was walking down the cobblestone streets of Viterbo, minding my own business, (which is surprisingly easy to do when casual eavesdropping is torn off the table by this thing called a “language barrier”) when I was caught by the most glorious smell to ever grace this fine earth. Fresh bread. Mmm. You know when there’s a really nice smell in a cartoon and the character can see the smell in the air? And that thing happens where the smell literally sweeps them off of their feet? That was me. But I’m a person, not an animated character, and I looked positively ridiculous tiptoeing toward the smell of perfection in pure, bakery-bound bliss.

I found myself in a side alley pastry shop in the good company of others who also prioritize nice smells over other mid-day responsibilities and I just stood there and ogled the bread. And boy did I ogle. If bread had hands rather than buns I would have gotten a well-deserved slap for the way I looked at that bread. Then I panicked. How do I order? What are the names of these lovely loaves? Do I get slices? Do I have to make small talk? “Why you gotta be so bitter, Sour Dough? I’m sure your mood will rise with time! Ayyy??” My anxiety rose like the dough before baking and I really awkwardly back pedaled out of the store. Fruitless… well, breadless. But you get what I mean. And now here I am, Breadless in Viterbo (which could easily be a sequel to Sleepless in Seattle that nobody ever asked for. I’m just trying to give the people what they want)

Doughn’t you wish I had more to say about bread? Anybody? Bueller? No?

That, my friends, was a sad attempt at a punny segue. Anyway, I traveled some this weekend.

I took a night train and ended up in Cinque Terre for sunrise!

Said I’m leaving (leaving) on that midnight train to Georgia… Roma.

Ooh, seriously, why do any of you put up with me?

After a sunrise hike between towns, a swim in the Mediterranean, and an incredible discovery that salt water does in fact boost buoyancy, I can say I had a simply wonderful dose of September sunshine. I almost drowned because I couldn’t stop smiling while swimming off the coast of Vernazza. Worth it.

We also took a Tuesday field trip to Rome. That was neat. Take a gander.