I spent the past 10 days in Italy. I am not as tan as I thought I would be, but there was a lot of New York I needed to shed. After flying JFK to Rome and Rome to Bari, I carried my dehydrated self over to the car rental counter inside the airport.

I threw my carry-on into the trunk of a Fiat and drove towards the hills near Polignano a Mare. Puglia, in all her desolate and sand-colored glory, felt as if Death Valley was located in Northern California. Strange trees and cacti lined the winding roads. The Pugliesi drove with abandon, and having driven in Italy before, I knew that the only thing that you need to know while on the road is to move over if a driver is quickly approaching behind you. The Italians enjoy long lunches and resting, but they have zero patience for getting to where they need to be. I guess the faster they get there, the sooner they can eat and rest. In Los Angeles fashion I rolled the windows down and felt the hot and dry air whisper against my shoulders and knew that before the day ended, I needed to jump into the Adriatic Sea.

I spent four nights at Villa Torre Bianca. The owner of the villa, his gorgeous wife who seemed to only wear DÔEN, and their six children from California were also spending the summer there. Each child was named after an Italian city, i.e. Como, Roma etc. The kitchen cooked them meals off menu, and the children—who had to have been under 10—hopped into a sprinter van daily to play in the sea while the parents downed prosecco at a beach club. In the evening, they would roam the grounds, play soccer on the grass with their local friends, and swim as the sun sets before filling their little bellies with spaghetti al pomodoro. I lay and read from a lounge chair as often as I could, praying my smoking and spritzes weren’t interrupting their family vacation. If they ever leave, I’d book the tower they stayed in and live like I owned the villa too.

Most memorable meals in Puglia:

L’Osteria di Chichibio
Osteria Perricci
Terre di San Vito wine tasting

I have since become fascinated by recognizing certain notes from wine, and have decided to learn as much as I can on my own without becoming a sommelier. I plan on using this power to recommend excellent wines to order with dinner, ideally without being annoying. Considering I’m unemployed, becoming a faux sommelier seems like a reasonable thing to do.

I slept by 11pm every evening, and woke up at 7am by light alone. The landscape surrounding the villa reminded me of Spaghetti Westerns, so one of those early evenings I threw on The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. I watched this film many years ago, when dating a cowboy from Mexico.

The costume design by Carlo Simi, known for Once Upon a Time in America and Django, is excellent. I’ll have to admit that the majority of coats I own were inspired by Clint Eastwood’s style in this film. And while the styling is great, it’s the score by Italian composer Ennio Morricone that really makes it potent.

Takeaways:

Salt and sea
Burrata
Sundried vegetables
Roundabouts
Peasant food, which is just another way to say simple food, which is a type of food I really enjoy.
White stuccoed buildings
Soon to taken over by tourism

One 28 Euro Ryan Air flight later, I landed in Venice and spent two nights at Ca Maria Adele. If there is one thing I am certain I am skilled at, it is choosing hotels (and traveling overall), so I knew to book a water taxi prior. It's the only acceptable way to travel in Venice, and if you have the money, spend it. Upon docking at the hotel, you don't lift a finger and are given prosecco before you can ask. Venice was equally as hot as Puglia, and it seemed everyone there was over 60 years old and had that fabulous older Italian women sense of style (wears color-framed glasses, chunky jewelry and has an unexpected hair color). Thankfully Venice was far less touristy than previous visits, but if I had one recommendation it would be not to spend a single second in San Marco. Just walk in some other direction until it gets quiet and there are chalkboard menus outside of restaurants written only in Italian. Ideally I would have spent time visiting the other islands of Venice, as there’s a few, but alas time was not on my side.

Most memorable meals in Venice:

La Zucca
Osteria il Milion
Campari Spritz(s) at Naranzaria

I spent the next two days up north in Cividale del Friuli, a charming town in the province of Udine. I saw one of my best friends get married to a man she loves very much and who loves her even more. They threw a wedding I’ll remember all my days. Not having attended many thus far, what I’ve come to realize is that there are three things that people seem to remember most when it comes to a wedding.

The Food
The Timing
The Music

Everything else is secondary. If you have friends in fashion I’m sure the dress is a big factor here. Doesn’t seem like anyone cares much about the flowers.

Now, a vacation rule I tend to stick by and highly recommend:

On your last night or two of a vacation (obviously depending on budget) stay at the nicest hotel you can get your hands on. You leave your trip on such a high, along with a luxurious shower or bath before an international flight, and quality sheets to layabout in. I really splurged (before lay off) and booked one night at Hotel Cipriani.

The hotel, which exists in a 15th-century Palazzo, has wined and dined every celebrity you can think of, and houses the beautiful, talented, and rich during the Venice Film Festival and Biennale. Upon arriving by water taxi, I was greeted by James, a man from America that studied abroad in Venice nearly 30 years ago and never went back. I was once again handed a glass of cold prosecco, and upon checking in I was informed of a complementary upgrade for our night. Whether it was the one night stay, my Italian last name, or good fortune, they upgraded us to their signature suite. Though having just been a guest at a wedding a day before, I felt like I was on my honeymoon. Typically I would never recommend spending too much time at a hotel, but when you get upgraded to a 7k a night room, I felt it was reasonable to stay put.

I spent the evening floating in their heated salt water swimming pool, drank a cocktail titled the Buonanotte, which was basically a Cosmopolitan minus the triple sec with fresh ginger and served in a cup with the good type of ice, and was surrounded by so much antique marble I felt the evil creeping in.

As I left on a taxi back to the airport and the pink hotel faded in the distance, I knew my mind would bookmark this memory and there would be no need to write in depth about it. Thank you to James and the handsome room service waiters for impeccable service and consideration. I will be doing what I can to make my way back, with or without an upgrade.

Takeaways:

Be kind
Get your money up