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Two Years in Italy: How two fifty-somethings retired, and went to live in Italy to live cheap and make art
by Rosemary Connelly
Sponsored
Synopsis
“To be with this man I adore, on this incredible journey, is a gift. I long to accept what comes next without fear; to simplify our lives, and let go of THINGS, hoping we’ll be wiser, with a new perspective on life.”With over 60 color photographs and watercolors, this book is ...
“To be with this man I adore, on this incredible journey, is a gift. I long to accept what comes next without fear; to simplify our lives, and let go of THINGS, hoping we’ll be wiser, with a new perspective on life.”
With over 60 color photographs and watercolors, this book is filled with excitement, joy, some frustrations, and a little heartache. This is the story of how two fifty-somethings retired, sold their home, put their things in storage, got a visa and went to live in Italy. We weren't rich—we did it on a firefighter’s pension. We lived cheaply and simply. We rented small furnished apartments in four different regions. We weren’t fluent in Italian, but we studied hard and were able to communicate and make friends. We drank cheap wine; ate fresh cheeses, pastas and pizzas. I sought my Italian roots and found ancestors dating back centuries. We discovered markets, cooked in tiny kitchens, attended festivals. We traveled by car, bus, train, plane, and ferry, exploring every region with enthusiasm and a willingness to say yes to what each day brought.
We weren’t just lucky, we worked hard to make it happen. We had a dream and we pursued it.
With over 60 color photographs and watercolors, this book is filled with excitement, joy, some frustrations, and a little heartache. This is the story of how two fifty-somethings retired, sold their home, put their things in storage, got a visa and went to live in Italy. We weren't rich—we did it on a firefighter’s pension. We lived cheaply and simply. We rented small furnished apartments in four different regions. We weren’t fluent in Italian, but we studied hard and were able to communicate and make friends. We drank cheap wine; ate fresh cheeses, pastas and pizzas. I sought my Italian roots and found ancestors dating back centuries. We discovered markets, cooked in tiny kitchens, attended festivals. We traveled by car, bus, train, plane, and ferry, exploring every region with enthusiasm and a willingness to say yes to what each day brought.
We weren’t just lucky, we worked hard to make it happen. We had a dream and we pursued it.
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