Italy has always been a dream destination, and in December 2019, I finally got the chance to experience its magic—all thanks to my little sister, Krista. She fell in love with an Italian, moved across the world, and gave me the perfect excuse to visit. While she’s back in the States now (and no longer with her Italian dream boat), I’ll always cherish the adventure her love story led me to.
From wandering the canals of Venice to exploring the charming streets of Gividali, Austria, Slovenia, and Bibione, every stop was a new chapter of beauty and discovery. Italy, and its neighboring gems, offered a perfect blend of history, culture, and breathtaking landscapes. Of course, no trip is complete without a little chaos (including a near-missed flight and a full-speed airport sprint), but every bit of it was worth it.
Here’s a look at my Italian adventure—the places, the flavors, and the memories that made it unforgettable.
Table of Contents
The Travel
I assume a lot of people don’t travel because they’re afraid of planes. For me, planes are no issue—I’d actually rather be on a plane than stuck in a car for hours. There’s something incredible about being able to reach a far-off destination in a fraction of the time it would take by land. But getting to Italy? That wasn’t exactly a quick trip.
My journey to Italy took a total of 17 hours, involving two flights, a layover, and jet lag like you wouldn’t believe. I flew out of Dallas/Fort Worth Airport, about an hour from my house. Thankfully, I’m TSA Pre-Check, so security was a breeze. I always arrive early—not just to avoid stress, but to mentally prepare for the trip ahead. My ritual? A latte or a cocktail (depending on the time of day) and a moment to relax in the AMEX Lounge before boarding.
My first flight was a 10-hour haul from Dallas to London. Though I didn’t get to see any of the city, just being in Heathrow Airport gave me a small taste of England—accents everywhere, shops filled with Cadbury chocolates and Twinings tea, and a lingering scent of freshly baked scones in the air. Three hours later, I was on my final flight to Venice. Once I landed, a two-hour car ride brought me to my destination, and finally, the adventure truly began.
The Nightmare Return Trip
The trip home, however, was an entirely different story—one that came with a valuable (and slightly humiliating) lesson. My return itinerary had me flying from Italy to Germany, where I faced a brutal 10-hour layover before my final flight to Dallas. No big deal, I thought—I found a lounge, settled in, and tried to make the most of my time.
What I didn’t do was check how far my next gate was. Rookie mistake.
About 30 minutes before departure, I casually packed up my things and pulled up my GPS. My heart nearly stopped when I saw the estimated walking time—20 minutes. Panic set in. I knew they closed the gate 15 minutes before takeoff, which meant I had exactly fifteen minutes to sprint through one of the world’s largest airports, clear customs, and somehow make it on board.
And so, I ran. I mean full-speed, Forrest Gump-style ran. Dodging travelers, weaving through terminals, heart pounding. By the time I reached my gate, gasping for air, an attendant was standing there, looking at me expectantly.
“Are you Brandy Landon?”
Through ragged breaths, I managed to wheeze, “YES.”
“We’ve been waiting on you,” he said, before promptly escorting me onto the plane.
As I made my way down the aisle, every single passenger turned to stare at the disheveled, out-of-breath American who had clearly almost missed her flight. It took me a solid 30 minutes to catch my breath, and let’s just say, it was not my finest moment. But by some miracle, I made it. Lesson learned: always check your gate first.
Flying Internationally
Despite the travel mishaps, international flights are actually pretty comfortable. The planes are huge, and every seat is designed for long-haul comfort. I was given a pillow, a blanket, three meals, and my own personal entertainment screen with free WiFi. Every so often, people got up to stretch their legs and walk the aisles, but for the most part, I was able to get some solid rest—and even get some work done without distractions.
Looking back, the journey to Italy was long, exhausting, and slightly chaotic—but every moment was worth it for the adventure that followed. And if I ever do it again? You better believe I’ll be checking my gate first.
The Food
I had always heard that the food in Italy was unmatched—and after experiencing it firsthand, I can confidently say that’s no exaggeration. What made it even more special was that I wasn’t just stumbling into tourist traps; I had the ultimate guides—an Italian native and my sister, who had spent time living there, exploring the food scene. They knew exactly where to go and what to order, which meant every meal felt like a hidden gem waiting to be discovered.
Now, I’m a full-blown pasta e pizza fanatic, so naturally, we ate a lot of both. One of the first things I noticed was the portion sizes—smaller than the oversized plates we’re used to in the U.S., but somehow just right. And as I looked around, I couldn’t help but notice something else: hardly anyone seemed overweight. It was explained to me that much of the food comes fresh from il mercato (the local market), made from scratch with simple, high-quality ingredients. No heavy processing, no unnecessary additives—just real food, prepared the way it’s meant to be.
The result? Every dish tasted fresher, richer, and more intentional. The pasta had a delicate, almost silky texture, the pizza was a perfect balance of crispy and airy, and every bite was infused with the kind of flavor you just don’t find in mass-produced meals.
But the experience didn’t end when the plates were cleared. Italians have a ritual of finishing a meal with either a small, strong caffè (espresso) or a shot of digestivo—a liqueur meant to aid digestion. I quickly fell in love with the tradition. There was something incredibly satisfying about sipping a bold espresso after indulging in a plate of carbonara, or ending a long dinner with a tiny glass of limoncello—sweet, citrusy, and the perfect way to linger at the table just a little longer.
Needless to say, the food wasn’t just better—it was an experience, a rhythm of flavors and traditions that made every meal feel like a celebration of la dolce vita (the sweet life).
The Gelato
I’m an ice cream fanatic—like, if it didn’t come with the unfortunate consequence of a tighter waistband, I’d happily eat it every single day. But gelato in Italy? That’s a whole different level of indulgence.
There’s something undeniably magical about strolling through the sun-drenched streets of Venice with a cone of freshly churned gelato in hand. It’s not just a dessert; it’s an experience. The first bite—silky, rich, and impossibly smooth—melts on your tongue like a love letter to your taste buds. The flavors are somehow more intense here, as if the pistachios were handpicked from the hills of Sicily just for you.
The Gondolas
One of my favorite experiences was visiting Venice. The concept of a city built entirely on water still fascinates me—it was definitely a must-see. We were fortunate to have a fantastic guide who gave us a full view of the city. I always enjoy speaking with locals about their way of life, so I asked him, “How does it feel to travel by boat all the time?” His response was simple but profound: “It’s all I’ve ever known.”
It was such an insightful answer. Too often, we judge a way of life or culture based on our own experiences, unable to fully appreciate something because it’s outside our frame of reference. We might think, Of course, they don’t see the magic in traveling by boat—they’ve always done it! But it’s the same as how people from big cities might view farm life. They’ll ask questions like, “Was it boring?” or “What did you do there?” because it’s something they’ve never experienced.
That’s the magic of travel—the ability to dive into something entirely new, to immerse yourself in a culture and way of life that’s different from your own. You soak up every moment, storing the sights and sounds as mental snapshots and locking the memories in your heart forever. The gondola ride in Venice will always be one of those memories I’ll carry with me.
Walking the Cobblestone Streets
What I loved most about my time in Italy was the walking. It felt like I had stepped into a fairytale. The history around me, the cobblestone streets beneath my feet, and the warm, genuinely curious Italians made it feel like a dream. It was like being in a movie—la dolce vita played out all around me. The air was fresh, women hung clothes from their balconies, old men played checkers in the piazza, laughing and sipping wine, while people strolled, lost in conversation.
While walking through these charming streets, I discovered something I had never really known before—la arte di non fare niente (the art of doing nothing). The concept is simple but profound: embrace downtime, enjoy the moment, and relax. Spend time with loved ones, rest, and let peace settle around you.
It was such a contrast to how I grew up. I was raised to survive, always hustling, always moving, and peace wasn’t something I was taught to prioritize. Since that trip, I’ve carried that lesson with me: sometimes, doing nothing is exactly what we need. And honestly, I’d happily embrace the art of doing nothing while strolling the cobblestone streets of Italy any day.
Final Thoughts
If Italy isn’t on your bucket list yet, add it now! My first time there was as surreal as I could’ve hoped for. From the cobblestone streets of Venice to the delicious pasta e pizza, every moment felt like a dream. Even as I look back, it serves as a beautiful reminder that life is short. If we’re lucky, we’ll have around 90 years to experience it (though I’m aiming for 100—imagine being the old woman telling stories of a life lived fully!).
Trips like this remind me to take a step back and appreciate the simple things—like the joy of walking with no particular destination in mind or savoring a meal with people who make you laugh. Travel, more than anything, teaches us to slow down and embrace moments of peace. I’m grateful for the memories I made in Italy, and I hope you’ll get to create your own unforgettable experiences one day soon.
Life is a collection of these moments—make them count.
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