So I had decided we need a holiday. Not want...NEED. Living in PNG is never boring but you need to expect the unexpected and be a master at thinking on your feet. We’re burnt out.
Last year, I tell Rob that we should really look at ‘doing’ Alaska in March. I’m thinking dog sledding, the Aurora, the world ice carving championships .He listens. For two weeks. Finally I notice his decided lack of enthusiasm.
“Well” I ask “What do you think?”
Blink blink.
“I’d rather go back to Italy”.
Blink blink.
Sigh. Italy it is.
In 2006, dear husband and I (when we were dear fiancés) had travelled to Rome for my cousin's wedding. Rob had fallen in love with all the things Italian. The culture, the food, the verbosity, the wine. Under his Kiwi skin, there was the biggest Italian wanna-be I’d ever met. So I understood his desire to return but other than that...he had no preferences. “You pick” he says with a very happy grin.
Well...where do you start? Google of course. I read trip reports, recommendations, laughed and learnt. Finally...I pieced together a budget and started making decisions. I really wanted to fly Qantas. It took Patrick (my guru travel agent) 10 seconds to destroy that preference. He basically railroaded me into Emirates and dates were picked, tickets booked and we were good to go. At least I knew when we were arriving in Venice (via London...I want a wee shop in Harrods LOL).
Only 22 sleeps...exciting.
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