That's Amore

Embrace columnist Cory Freeman vists his boyfriend’s homeland. There, they experience the sweet life — Italian style.

BY CORY FREEMAN

My boyfriend, Giulio Barteselli, is Italian.

And I don’t mean Jersey Italian. I mean he was born and raised in a suburb of Milan, where his entire family still lives. He's Italian Italian. After seriously dating for over a year, we decided it was time for me to meet the family and see the places he is from. So, we packed our bags and invited four of our closest friends to join us on an adventure-packed trip through Northern Italy. The first stop, of course, was Milan. After spending a couple days meeting Giulio’s wonderfully inviting parents and (may I say loud?) large Italian family, I realized I really need to learn to speak Italian.

After we met up with our friends in their strangely eclectic hotel where the lobby decor was somewhere between thrift store antiques and museum exhibit. Milan is one of the fashion capitals of the world, and everywhere you go you see its influence. High-end boutiques house the world’s leading fashion designers— most of which were by appointment only, so my shopping spree had to be postponed.

We found our way over to the Duomo di Milano. I was not prepared for how breathtaking this 14th century cathedral is inside and out. Even if I had a year, I wouldn't be able to appreciate all the intricate detail in its construction. With so much walking and standing all day we were ready for some refreshment. On the same plaza are museums and the famous Galleria Vittorio Emanuele mall. When in Italy, you must refresh with an Aperol Spritz. Save the Negroni Sbagliato…with Prosecco, for your after-dinner cocktail. Trust me on this.

The next day, we went o to the coast to see the Cinque Terre. These five quintessential coastal Italian towns built on the steep mountain cli s along the coast are accessible only by train, by boat, or on foot. (We chose the train.) Walking up the steep streets lined with shops, cafés, and bistros, time seemed to slow down. I found myself taking deeper breaths of the salty air coming o the Mediterranean, reminding myself that we have all day to explore with people I love. Each of these towns had unique aspects to them, but all of them had that same e ect on me.

After some time on the coast, it was time to travel up into the mountains. We traveled by car to Vezza D’Oglio, a small town nestled in a deep narrow valley of the Italian Alps. The homes and businesses are built up either side of the steep mountain. Flower planters hung on every fence and from every window and balcony. Now I understand Giulio’s compulsion to always buy more houseplants when there is no more space for them — and how he always finds a space for them. We decided to take a mountain lake hike that Giulio's family took each summer when he was a kid. The sign at the trailhead described the trail as “moderate,” but I think we all took a hit to our egos after finally arriving, exhausted, at the lake. But our e ort was rewarded with spectacular views of the valley and mountains all around us. I felt like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music. Maybe I didn't have guitar, but I did have an iPhone, and that speaker was good enough.

All too quickly, we parted ways with our friends, but Giulio and I continued on to the Dolomites. We had planned to camp in a tent and hike, but possible snowstorms led us to book a hotel at the last minute. Sure enough we woke up to the first snow of the season. It was stunning, and we were stunned; we had not prepared for snow. We dug through our luggage and put multiple layers on, both determined to make the best of this situation. We decided to keep with our plan to hike around the Tre Cime, the most iconic of the Dolomites. There were moments during this hike, where the snow blew in our faces and we were only wearing sweatpants and sweatshirts, that I really questioned our sanity. But the sun eventually came out, and we got to appreciate the grandeur of these mountains and work through a tough experience together.

Our next stop was Venice, home to warmer weather — and people. So many people that we were shoulder to shoulder walking down the street, struggling to get anywhere. Frustrated and overwhelmed, we retreated to the hotel room until nighttime, and see if that made a difference. This plan worked. Not only were there very few people on the streets, but St Mark’s Square and Rialto Bridge were lit up. It was quiet and gave us time to talk and maybe sneak a few kisses.

We traveled on to the birthplace of the Renaissance, Florence. Everywhere you turn in this city there is a point of interest, far more to than can be seen in a few days. We chose to start at Florence Cathedral, a building whose ceilings appear to reach the heavens. It gave me pause to reflect on the lives of the individuals who built this structure and of the countless individuals who have walked through and worshiped in this space over the centuries. I felt a moment of connection across time. We walked across the Ponte Vecchio admiring all the art and jewelry. We made our way up the hill to Piazzale Michelangelo to take pictures as the sun set over Florence, only to nd a massive crowd of people who had the same idea. We managed to push our way to the overlook to snap a few photos and then simply enjoy the moment.

We moved on from Florence into the Tuscan countryside. We had reservations at a farmhouse at a vineyard and winery. We drove through the rolling hills with vineyards expanding in every direction, cypress trees lining the roadway. The farmhouse was old, and the accommodations were modest, but in a way that added to the charm.

While relaxing by the pool, we chatted with other farmhouse guests. We were all from different countries, but used English to communicate. We did the wine tour and the charcuterie pairing, and ventured to the nearby medieval town of San Gimignano. And in the middle of this old town built up on a hilltop with a wall around it, there was a quaint little gelato shop that neither of us could resist. We walked along the wall at the edge of the town and appreciated the views of endless Tuscan vineyards in every direction, gelato in hand.

While in the car to Rome I planned out everything we were going to see and in what order we would see them based on location. What can I say? I like efficiency. There is so much to see and only a few days to see them.

We spent the first day at the Vatican museums and St Peter’s Square. One day was not enough. The museum collection is so vast that we had to choose which sections we might find the most interesting and miss out on the others. We had to see the Sistine Chapel and the renaissance period paintings and sculptures. We also prioritized going inside St Peter’s Basilica. Once again I found myself in awe at the size and intricate detail —not to mention the artwork. Even as you enter the doors, to your right is Michelangelo’s Pietà.

We try to hit all the major sites: Piazza di Spagna, Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, the Roman Forum, and the Colosseum to name a few. On our final day in Rome, and the final day of our trip, we were exhausted. So, we decided to just sit down and have a drink at a little gay bar we found called Coming Out (a few of the reviews complained of long wait times, but that’s probably no big deal). We ordered some drinks and sat outdoors so we could chat about our trip with a view of the Colosseum in the distance. We spent close to an hour talking, connecting more deeply than we ever had before at this relaxing spot in the middle of Rome. I wondered: Was it Italy, seeing where Giulio is from, that gave me greater insight and appreciation for him? Or was it simply that we had not left each other’s side for an entire month?

But perhaps most important thing I wanted to know after that hour of connection was: Where was my damn drink!?