Notes from Verona

A cute, cozy open-shelf hostel kitchen.

Buying cherry tomatoes, seven-minute pasta, chicken, and wine for my first time cooking dinner in a hostel.

Finding pesto and parmesan in the hostel’s community fridge, which were a great addition to what I was cooking.

Ivy-covered homes.

Red heart-shaped combination locks.

A hostel cat with a big personality named Mufasa.

Buying the earrings I saw in the shop window from a female small business owner just because I liked them after passing by twice.

Convincing myself that I needed to give Aperol Spritzes another try and deciding that I, indeed, think they are disgusting.

Climbing up to the Castel San Pietro and quick visits with other tourists along the way.

City views from all angles.

Chatting with the hostel manager about starting new life chapters and what draws us to live in the country versus the city.

Castle drawbridge.

A city that felt light and cozy and just a little smaller and calmer.

Sitting on the back patio at the hostel, watching a man drinking coffee, eating chocolate, and smoking a cigarette first thing in the morning.

Dark green shutters.

Walking into a flower shop and tearing up because it smells like home.

Being asked if I was lonely yet on the trip and thinking a lot about how loneliness is so much more than the physical state of being alone and when and where it shows up in different ways.

Understanding why people think Verona is a romantic city. 

Sunset views out Juliet balconies.

Pizza with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and pepperoncini oil, and a glass of Gruner Veltliner. 

A hard-to-find bus stop that was relocated from the main station to a random bus station blocks away.

A cozy courtyard with a bronze statue of Juliet and proclamations of love.

Witnessing other people’s quiet moments of affection.