La prima volta che sono andata in Italia...

Rob and I have been to Italy five times, but the first time I went to Italy was as an infant with my parents.

I was born in Istanbul (conceived on the Île Saint Louis in Paris, but that's another blog...), so I lived in Europe before I ever lived in the US. Because my parents were both Americans, I was born an American citizen and I have the beautiful birth certificate with a red ribbon and US State Department seal to prove it (eat your heart out, Mr. President).

When my parents and I left Turkey to come home, they wanted to make the most of the trip, so we spent a month traveling across Greece and Italy, a month in Paris, and a month in London, before taking the Queen Elizabeth I across the Atlantic and settling in the DC area.

The Italian portion of our trip started with a slow boat from Greece, landing in Bari at the Achilles tendon of Italy, and taking trains through Italy and ultimately through the Sempione (Simplon) pass to Paris.

Family mythology has me taking my first steps on the Piazza San Marco in Venezia (Venice) and kicking the pigeons. Of course I don't remember -- I was +/- 13 months old -- but that was the first time I went to Italy.