In five years, the wine trail has gone through Italy, often. But life isn’t all about wine. Or Italy. I love the place and the wines, don’t get me wrong. I just have a larger world that I have been handed. And not a lot of time. So there you have it. Welcome aboard or bon voyage.
It is the closest thing to France, or Italy that is near to where I live. I love it, absolutely am crazy about the place. I feel like I am in France or Italy.
we ate and drank like we were in Sicily. Or Louisiana. One can find those experiences at home as well. Anywhere. But there is that old “spirit of place” element. The terroir of the Vieux Carré. And just as one can be bewitched by Bologna, so one can be as well by Baton Rouge or Big Bend. I think that is one of the beautiful things I have learned from travel and from Italy. Those things “particulare” that make up the interesting piece of a place can be found anywhere the open heart and eyes will peer into. Italy is everywhere.
I know it is in Louisiana, for my bones feel it. I dream about places in the city, I walk around it in dreams, wandering. Genetic memories from a great-great grandfather who lived there 150 years ago? Perhaps.
The sun is beginnin' to shine on me
But it's not like the sun that used to be
The party's over and there's less and less to say
I got new eyes, everything looks far away.
Well, my heart's in the highlands at the break of day
Over the hills and far away
There's a way to get there and I'll figure it out somehow
Well, I'm already there in my mind, and that's good enough for now.