Gobsmacked is what I am.
When you graduate from college in Italy, you are laureate. An Italian custom I find completely charming is the habit of the graduate wearing a laurel wreath to mark the occasion.
Today I spotted this happy fellow, who clearly just graduated. I followed him for a few steps:
And then I asked him to pose for a picture. Unfortunately, I caught him in an awkward pose, because he is a very handsome young man!
It’s autumn, obviously, so what do you expect in the bakery here?
Schiacciata con uve?
And if that doesn’t float your boat, how about
Schiacciata con fichi e noci?
I wonder how old this sign is? When was the last time you received a telegram?
In the darling little village of Sirmione, on Lake Garda, I spied this adorable little boy, who was fascinated by, and a little bit afraid of, the swan.
There was lots of wildlife along the coast, mostly ducks and swans. A nice break from the stone city of Florence.
Here’s how you announce the birth of a child in Italy. Pink for a girl, ovviamente, and blue for a boy.
Translation of the handwritten notice: “Children know things that the major part of humanity has forgotten.” A lovely sentiment, indeed.
Benvenuta, Giulia! Welcome to the world. Lucky you, to be born in Florence!
All babies are welcomed into Italy because the country has one of the lowest birthrates in the world!