Sober Girls Guide to Europe: Chapter 2, Pastaland!

Photo by Jace Grandinetti

Ahhh Italy, the country that makes you feel like you’re Cate Blanchett endorsing a perfume, multiple times a day.

Would you like more pasta? … “Si” –

After what felt like the world’s worst roadtrip we arrived at the Leaning Tower of Pisa which as our tour guide shockingly pointed out, is in fact leaning.

Thanks Contiki Nic, can always count on you for the facts.

And then pasta happened. Woweeee. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced that much goodness in a single dish. Except hot chips because let’s be honest, not a lot beats hot chips. Anyway the pasta was amazing and there was lots of it. A person (who will rename nameless) sat at the table behind us and was actually shovelling the spaghetti into her mouth with her hands as if performing some sort of animalistic ritual.

And by animal, I mean rat. –

That night was karaoke, Italian style. Which essentially is exactly the same as karaoke everywhere else in the world except we were stuck in what appeared to be a club and there was vomit and other bodily fluids everywhere.

How I think I look when I sing Gold Digger. –

Then we (and by we I mean the girls and Tommy and Co.) got lost. Very lost. Not like we took a wrong turn and ended up back where we started after ten minutes. But we took about 35 wrong turns, ran into some very questionable people who I’m convinced to this day were all members of the Italian Mafia, visited three different churches and ended up back where we started four times before eventually finding a taxi death cab and arriving back at the mosquito infested campsite TWO AND A HALF HOURS LATER.
an adventure to the main road that is. –

Also that day we had a tour of Florence with the most flamboyant man Italy had to offer. To be honest I got side-tracked trying to orchestrate a photoshoot with #ferraricalifornia and a cute puppy because “omg imagine if we get a photo with me kissing it, that will be so good for my insta.”

as retrieved from:
#ferraricalifornia seems to be as fake as #fakedavid –

And then: Rome (if you want tooooo). Basically this was two days of pretending that I was in fact my namesake Lizzie Mcguire and running around the city trying to find a vespa to ride on whilst looking for my weird-looking Italian lover Paolo (not to be confused with my good-looking Italian bus driver Paolo) and yelling out forgotten lines from the accompanying movie and soundtrack whislt wearing a garishly yellow dress that even Daisy Buchanan would be proud of.

Because why not? –

Of course, when in rome (ha!) one must visit the Vatican. Our tour guide was like “yeah yeah yeah we’re going to the Vatican” and then at the last minute “it’s Sunday the Vatican is closed.” He probably got a better offer. Classic #contikinic letting us down.

Such a Judas move. –

But in what can only be described as an ACT OF GOD, Nic pulled through andtook us to St. Peter’s Square on Sunday morning to see the High Sparrow Pope. That’s right, I have met THE Pope. He was very small. Also it was 35 degrees and i could feel the sweat waterfalling down my legs. I didn’t understand what he was saying (because it was in Italian, not because I have hearing loss) but I could have sworn at one point he yelled “babycino” and blessed the crowd. Look, if the Pope is telling me God wants me to have more babycinos, I wont argue with that.

Preach it, Franny. –

And then Venice happened (as did about 3000 more pasta filled meals and approximately 2.35 kilograms of gelato after each). We did the canal thing (so fun even though no one fell in). Met some merchants (merchants of venice I guess you could call them). Also did I mention Venice is sinking. Well it is. It’s sinking.  thanks #contikinic

#veniceissinking –

I tried to speak Italian I really did. But listening to me speak Italian is about as good as the Lorna Jane mums at work telling me about how much they love champagne and kale.

In other words: painful. –

So that was Italy. I won’t lie it wasn’t exactly what I expected. On our last night I didn’t get to walk the red carpet in a sexy pants suit and then perform with a blonde Italian version of myself whilst my school teacher danced along in the crowd with my parents who had flown all the way from america with my brother because he was trying to get me in trouble for posing as an Italian superstar for the last two weeks whilst my best friend Gordo fell in love with me.

Italy is what dreams are made of. –

It was still good though.



ps . Did I mention I got proposed to at the Trevi Fountain?

Yeah #ferraricalifornia proposed to me because he thought it would be a good publicity stunt. He quickly retracted the offer when I told him I drove a Honda civic.

#lovehurts –


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