I seem to recall promising that I'd be back on the wagon after our trip to Tuscany. That it was really and truly going to be the event that got me back into regular blogging. And then... it was August. And then September. And then October. And SHAMEFULLY, it's November 1 and I haven't blogged since July. Oh my goodness. Lynne, step your game up, girl!
To remember what happened that far back I a) went onto Facebook and stalked myself a little bit. (Wait, not everyone does that?? Hmm... this just got weird...) Anyway, several months ago there was this whole Syria situation, if you'll recall from the global news and basically everyone freaked out for a while. With all of our significant others on ready alert, a group of 4 wives and 1 baby cancelled/changed our plans for a girl's weekend in Lecce, Italy. I had searched the interweb far and wide for an epic hotel and found this faux-riad, which seemed just ridiculous enough to be Italian. "This will do nicely." When I assigned Tom to book the rooms, he booked us this absurdly fatty suite which was approximately the size of our entire apartment here in Naples.
This place was totally a compound in the middle of nowhere. It felt really fancy and relaxing and Moroccan, just kind of weirdly in the middle of the not-quite-developed section of Lecce. There was an overly friendly bell-hop/generally lurky dude that was excessively ready to assist us with just about anything. Mohmed, said dude, would show up out of nowhere with some item that he thought you might want (towel, hooka, pillow, firewood (oh wait, no we did want you to build us a fire, Mohmed)).
This hotel has this enormous, I kid you not, like entire beach-sized, very shallow pool. At its deepest point it was probably only chest-deep. Low drowning hazard? With these huge pillars in the water. We basically spent two of three days in this pool, Mohmed showing up with bottles of water, prosecco, or snacks every once in a while. "Thanks, Mohmed... (where did he come from?????)"
It wasn't one of those trips that changed my life or ended with ridiculous stories. It was simply four friends and one ridiculously cute baby hanging out in a weird hotel in the middle of no where with one very lurky bellhop. We shared so many laughs, whirled around in the spa, ate non-Italian food, and then some Italian food that was just different from Napolitan fare. A successful, unintentional girl's weekend!