A terracotta building breaks the Amalfi’s piercing blue sky and everlasting sea. We’ve reached the Grand Hotel Excelsior Vittoria, and she is one of a kind. Coastal sun illuminates hand painted ceilings brimming with cherubs and marble busts wrapped in seaside florals, while table settings dot the terrace for one to contemplate by sunrise and raise a glass by sunset. Views of Mount Vesuvius, Capri within a breath, regal ambience and love all around. Here, in Italy, I am vibrant and boundless. No plans, just possibilities. Every wrong turn is a detour in the right direction and every misstep is just more magic waiting to happen. In the backstreets of Rome, I scribble love notes to myself and the world on cobblestones and napkins. I unfurl beneath painted ceilings, flanked by flocks of doting cherubs. In Milan, I dance to street musicians playing my song and play the muse for poets and artists. My hair curls and crinkles fresh out of the Amalfi every morning. I leap from too-high rocks into the endless ocean and charm my way onto the backseat of a stranger’s vespa. From Ravello to Positano, to Capri and to Sorrento. An infinite loop of summer sensations. My Italy, Amore Mio.