a Villa to die for (seriously, bury me here!)

MORE PHOTOS posted here.

It is Day 4 in Italy and it’s hard to believe how quickly the hours in each day are passing. What have we done in the last four days since we left New York City? Gotten fatter, mostly.

We’ve eaten like hogs about to be slaughtered and exercised about as much. Hate that lousy feeling. Trying to avoid eating bread; but in Italy, I could eat an entire bread meal, the bread is just so good. Waiter, per favore, solo pan per me.

This place where we are staying, Villa Feltrinelli, is like a rest home for the rich. I don’t know what we were thinking staying here!  [Point of fact: though the Feltrinelli web site brags about artists and statesmen having stayed there, it fails to mention that the Villa was once the temporary “prison” of Mussolini.] We should have called this our second honeymoon, it’s that over the top. And the other guests here certainly don’t seem to be jumping up an down with excitement the way we are (but quietly, so as not to call too much attention to ourselves). They seem to take the place in stride.

I guess you’re supposed to be accustomed to just eating and drinking and reading and taking in the views, sitting by the water, recuperating from your life of luxury.

Alright, I’ll admit, this is rather grand, but I still need the counterpoint. I need to feel I have earned it, paying with punishing physical or intellectual exercise. I cannot merely rest. I need something to rest against. Equal and opposite force.

Stress/recovery. Hunger/satiation. That’s what I need. Off for a long walk.

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