“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” my dear friend, Birch, said.
Now, I knew full-well that it wasn’t the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. We went to high school and college together forty-some years ago and we heard some REALLY stupid things in those places. My telling him that Jessica and I were moving to Italy came nowhere near the end of the stupid scale compared to the ravings of students and faculty on campus in the early-70s.
“You can’t just quit your jobs, leave your friends and families and move half-way around the world. That’s just stupid.” If he was trying to get me to argue with him about the stupidity part, he was disappointed. I wasn’t at all sure that he was wrong about that. Nor was I going to correct his geography and remind him that Italy wasn’t even a quarter of the way around the world from our home in the States. Nonetheless, we were committed to leaving our very good jobs, selling our 3,000 square foot penthouse in Pittsburgh, and moving to southern Italy, Puglia, to be specific.
Birch has gotten used to the idea, now, as have our families. In fact, I think they’ve bought into the idea that they now have a vacation home on the heel of Italy’s boot.
If you have any interest in Puglia and other Italy destinations, if you have thought about what it might be like to move to another country, take on a new language, make your own olive oil or, if you laugh when you see someone roll down a set of stairs or use the Italian word for “penis” when asking for “pens” (pene instead of penne), then stay tuned. We’ll be here talking about the good, the bad and the worse.
Next Up: Why Puglia?