January 4, 2010 | life

Diary of an Italian Vacation

Day 1

– Land in Trieste. Fall in love twice before leaving the airport.

– Arrive at apartment. Eat. A lot.

Day 2

– Up early. Go to wander around shops. Make a few purchases.

– While crossing a street, see a devastatingly handsome man, impeccably dressed, smoking a pipe. I follow him for a few blocks, drooling like a puppy dog. *sigh* He was half man, half amazing.

– Realise everything in Italy closes from 1-3pm so people can enjoy lunch and a nap. I heart Italy.

– Have lunch at a lovely little restaurant. I count no less than 10 cloves of garlic in my pasta. Any plans to find my Italian husband are well and truly scuppered for the rest of the day as a result of said pasta.

– After getting a ridiculous diagnoses for something from my GP in England recently, Godfather’s wife arranges for me to see a specialist in Trieste. Specialist is awesome, diagnoses me correctly in 10 minutes, gives me treatment and requests extra testing. Find out her sister lives near me in England. Small world. Consultation ends with her kissing me on both cheeks. All doctors appointments should go like this.

– Godfather holds dinner party at apartment and invites all his awesome neighbours. Have an amazing night and get all neighbours to agree to work on finding me an Italian husband.

Day 3

– More shopping. Discover Italian H&M, which is like God came down from heaven and hand stitched the clothes himself.

– Find the perfect pair of trousers in another shop. They are tres expensive, so rather than buy them, I walk around the shop in them for 10 minutes, pretending I own them.

– Epic lunch back at the apartment, followed by power nap.

– Get dolled up and go to exhibition of artist I met at last night’s dinner party. Difficult to distinguish between the works of art and the men at this event. Fall in love at least three times.

– Go to nice restaurant and have the pizza to end all pizzas. Decide I will never eat pizza again, unless I’m in Italy. (That last sentence was a complete lie, but it’s an ideal I’d like to live up to)

Day 4

– May come as a surprise, but I did more shopping (are you seeing a theme here?)

– Go back to shop where I found the perfect trousers to lust after them some more. Find out they are actually part of a 50% off sale. Get so excited I practically drool on myself. To celebrate this shopping victory, I buy an adorable Little Black Dress I find in the same shop. Sadly, dress wasn’t 50% off, so therefore cancelled out any potential victory of the trousers, but still feel like a winner.

– After a righteous dinner, head down to the piazza to ring in the New Year. Listen to some guy sing Time Warp from The Rocky Horror Show in English with an Italian accent – surprisingly amusing. At midnight, despite the rain, there are so many fireworks, it sounds like a war zone.

Day 5

– After leisurely morning, head to the airport.

– Spent five days in Italy and didn’t see anyone in Ugg boots or leggings. My idea of heaven. Soon as I get to the airport, the two chicks in front of me and one behind are all wearing Uggs. They’re all British. Feel a great sense of rage and shame. Thought 2010 would bring change. I was wrong.

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The Jaded NYer

I couldn’t concentrate on anything past:

“- Find the perfect pair of trousers in another shop. They are tres expensive, so rather than buy them, I walk around the shop in them for 10 minutes, pretending I own them.”

because I was laughing too hard!

Glad you had fun in a legging-and-Uggs-free zone. If only NYers wook take heed…

Smarty P. Jones

*bows head* Dear Jesus, thank you for the gift of sight for being able to see those lust-worthy Italian boys in their panties. Amen. *lifts head*
Hey, chica! So welcome back! Looks like your vacation was great.

Vicki Psarias

Thanks for making me laugh hun! Italy sounds bellisimo!


Emma Cossey

Right, I’ve added Italy to my ‘places to visit this decade’ list.

Shopping, pizza and scheduled naps? The UK has it all wrong..


Okay you’re a truly a friend in my head because I have that same picture on my computer as a screen saver. I love Gennaro’s thighs…(wow the slut just popped out of my head) LOL. I agree pizza is the best in Italy. Welcome back glad to hear you had a great time

Bangs and a Bun

JADED – Don’t act like you’ve never done that! But if you haven’t, I thoroughly recommend it!

TYRONE – *sigh* I wish.

SMARTY – I can’t get past the fact that you called them ‘panties’.You’re welcome.

VICKI – You’re welcome my dear and yes, it was truly lovely.

EMMA – Oh you must go. Those people really know how to live!

F$%K IT – It was glorious. They’re all tailored, knee lengths puffa coats with riding boots. Not an Ugg boot or legging in sight. Clearly, I should live there.

BONNIE – I LOVE that this pic is your screensaver! *High five* Happy New Year to you my lovely!

HINAMORI – *drools a bit* Aren’t they just so purdy?!


I love Italy. The ice cream and pizza there is beyond all comparison. I was in Germany in Dec, and could spot other Brits a mile off… because of the UGG boots!


Good lord! Those Italian boys certainly do not look like those on the jersey shore…wowzers…..

Bangs and a Bun

KATIE – Gah! It’s tragic that UGG boots have become a symbol of our people!

DJ CAGEDBIRD – Me too my friend, me too.

AKILAH – LOL, yeah these are the down home, born and bred eye-talians. Ain’t they just lovely?


Can I please say I loved your post!! It’s witty, funny and the best part is that you meant it all, Internet be damned! <3 That is all.


shame on you to bribe us with salacious pictures of italian hunks. it totally worked! I think my favourite is the one of the far right, enzo as i would like to call him. I forgot to read your post. I’ll come back in a bit 🙂 happy new hunk x


Chances are your ‘italian husband’ would have eaten cloves of garlic too, chill and enjoy food 🙂 xx

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