Travel & Hotspots
Onze Meisje in New York
With mom, I am waiting. In our bag, we have fresh filet americain and grill sausage. Especially for my love, who craves this as soon as he sets foot on Dutch soil. After a week, I will see him again. He walks in through the sliding doors. And there we are together again. He with one suitcase, I with two. I have to pinch him. And then we stand by those damn machines that weigh your luggage and send your things to the right airplane. I hate those things. They get stuck, don’t print your label, and with kindness, you can’t get a kilo or three of excess baggage on the belt for free anymore. But luckily, I am exactly within the limits and after scanning the QR code multiple times, the right label comes out. There we go.
Mom has waved goodbye and once at the right gate, we see red letters and numbers on the screen. The delay to Florence is about an hour and a half. Luckily, waiting together isn’t so bad. My fiancé quickly grabs a bitterball and a portion of mini meatballs. And I, as a true phone junkie, end up on the floor with my phone on the charger. Secretly, I go to the Instagram page of the place we are going after two days in Florence. This is the place where we are going to get married. Not this time, but in nine months. Now we are going to arrange the flowers, taste the food, choose the wine, and check the lighting. But mainly see how it looks. The location has been booked from New York, and now we can finally see if it is just as beautiful as in the pictures. My heart skips a beat.
But before we start the road trip to the wedding venue, we are in Florence. We are sleeping in Floroom, an incredibly fun B&B in the heart of Florence. We have breakfast at Le Ménagère, eat pizza with sourdough crust at Berberè (where they have the absolute best pizza ever), and a nine-course menu is served to us at the amazing La Bottega del Buon Caffè.
After a walk through the city, my fiancé surprises me with an idea. We are standing on the Ponte Vecchio. We ring a bell and the 82-year-old Mr. Piccini opens the door. It turns out he has the only balcony of this famous bridge, but that’s not why we are here. My eye falls on a ring, and my fiancé’s eye also falls on a ring. They fit! Both exactly. These are our rings. The rings we will wear forever. Finding and fitting in a magical place. And I can’t hold it anymore. A tear flows. And Teun starts laughing. But I am sure he finds it just as special.
After a little more than an hour and a half drive, we arrive. The location is still a secret for our guests, so I can’t share much about it. But I can say that it is even more beautiful than in any photo. The people are incredibly kind, the food is delicious, and the view is phenomenal. We have a busy schedule with the florist, the tent guy, we taste nine different menus, and discuss every detail with the staff. Additionally, there are tours and other appointments; my head sometimes feels a bit overwhelmed. And between arranging and petting the horses, I naturally shed another tear. What an emotional rollercoaster, but believe me: I can’t help it at all.
After four days, we leave the fairytale-like Tuscany. Not going home just yet, but time for the beach. At this moment, I am lying on the beach of Forte dei Marmi. On my lap, the laptop, on my right a glass of rosé, and on my nose, sunglasses. My book is waiting. I’ll see you all again next week. Arrivederci.
