Our flight left on Friday evening and we didn’t return until two weeks (and one day) later.
It was the longest trip I’ve ever been on. By far the longest for Alex, and Zach, too. We’ve been lucky enough to go on a few one week trips, but two weeks is a whole different thing.
Through Paris, we flew into Florence, Italy, where we picked up a rental car and drove into the hills of Tuscany for one week.
The little village we stayed in was wonderful. It was very small, with only a few restaurants, and no grocery store. We had to drive to the “big” town a few kilometers away for the grocery store.
Alex, Zach, and I travelled with Zach’s parents, and met up with two uncles and their wives for the week in Italy. We visited Pisa, Lucca, Florence, and a few small villages. We ate tons of food, and drank a ton of wine.
Our second week was France, leaving behind the uncles and aunts. After Italy, France had a lot to live up to. It didn’t disappoint.
We are jet lagged, exhausted, surrounded by dirty laundry, and so, so, happy. Experiencing something like this, a two week trip to Europe, is an unbelievable experience.
It still feels surreal.
(More to come. But: jet lag. Laundry. Errands. Over two thousand photos to look through. You know, the normal life stuff.)
