My Italian gift is a treasure beyond measure. Has Italy given me a gift…. only one beyond my wildest imaginings.

There has never been a moment I can remember where I didn’t want to travel, see the world and live life to the full. As a child I would have my nose in a book usually about a magical land or far off place. The world called me constantly, and still does.

Once I hit my twenties I set off for England to stay with my Aunt and Uncle, ten weeks turned into two years.

It was then that I developed a love of photography, my Uncle had a 35mm with a macro lens and the world I thought I knew opened up on an entirely new level.

So I set off for the first time from Sussex to Europe with my backpack filled with guidebooks and novels. Seeking my Italian gift, I knew it was waiting for me.

An innocent abroad, I traveled alone, stayed in hostels and experienced all those crazy things that make you smile a wicked smile in old age.

I grew up, and I fell in love with Italy… the two are intertwined.

My Italian Gift

It’s no surprise that I married an Italian, we met on New Years Eve at a break up party for the photography college we were both studying at. He was taking the commercial stream and I the fine art.

Nobody thought it would last.

The Aussie girl was embraced totally and I became part of an Italian family. The contrast was shocking at first, it was like a secret world opened up from one of my childhood stories.

Our lives were so different, culture, food, beliefs, families, we were the total odd couple.

Sixteen years and here we are still together, still wildly opposites, and yes he is still the man I love with my whole heart.

The Italian gift  was my life…my husband and our three children.

A life I could never have imagined, filled with joy and unbearable sorrow, a life lived to the full.

An Italian gift I treasure everyday…

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