Ancient Stuff, Pizza Crusts, and Popes, Oh My! A Photo Journey of an American Writer in Italy

This post brought to you by my family. Seriously. Give them a hand. For my brother’s awesome photography tips and general wackiness that matches my wackiness, and innumerable thanks to my parents for thinking of, planning, and allowing me to tag along on said trip.

Strangely enough, despite what the title says there will be very little writing from this writer in this post. Instead, I’ll let the pictures do the talking, with the occasional comment tossed in for spice.





Once we’d gotten our fill of Rome, we moved on to the second leg of our trip: Florence, the Italian city that is comprised of more Americans than actual Italians. Seriously. Italians are like an endangered species there compared to the tourists and school kids on break from America.

Regardless, we kept up our definitely-not-vacation-level sightseeing pace and crammed as much cool stuff into our time there as possible.


Our third and sort of final leg of the trip placed us in the coastal town of Salerno, home to sun, waves, and water that was still, unfortunately, far too cold to swim in (personal experience here).


And what a monumental trip it was. As always on our Fletcher vacations, it’s more of a marathon sprint to cram as much as possible into the days, leaving little time for actual, you know, vacation. But it was so worth it all the same.


Until next time.


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