Letters to Italy

2. to Italy

I was reading some tweets about Il Volo on twitter. But we had to go, because our plane won't wait. That's what my mom kept repeating. Nervous, as always.

I read the words of the title from the article someone had taken a picture of. It was saying that Gianluca was single. "Good that", I thought with a smile on my face. Just when I was going to Italy, I knew for sure that he was single. "Stop" I told myself. "You never make a chance". But still, the news was good, very good. It was better for him to wait until he finds the right person, his true love, than being with someone bitchy. Waaay better! So I was happy when I walked out to the car.

I knew what I would be doing the whole time on the plane and in the car. Listening to my favourite music. Il Volo of course! Sometimes, I was daydreaming about Gianluca. But then again I thought it would be better not to expect too much from this visit to my brother. I definitely wasn't going to meet Il Volo. Even thought, my brother became good friends with them, at least that's what he told me in his letters. Such things only happen in dreams, or fairytales, realy good fairytales.

a few hours later

"We are in Italy!", my sister yelled. "Vivaaa l'Italiaaaa!"
We walked out of the airport. 'Aeroporto di Roma Fiumicino', as they say in Italy. There he was, our beloved brother.

"Jonas", I yelled, when I ran into his arms. "How nice to see you after all this time. You look so good, you know that?"

"Yes, I know", he laughed.

We had a little talk and everyone was hugging Jonas and overwhelming him with questions. But then Jonas said, the taxi was there. So we went to the cab and when everything was loaded into the car, we drove to the house of the family where Jonas was staying the whole year. Rome was beautiful. I couldn't believe my eyes. This was more than I expected. More beautiful!

Jonas introduced us to the family when we arrived. The house was typically Italian and the family too of course. They were all very friendly, I didn't expect anything else of course. They're Italian!

Carlotta, 19 years old, was actually my brothers new sister. So she was my sister too, I thought. She was lovely. She jumped from one place to another from excitement. Just like my little sister, Liene, would do. They could be very good friends. But I also wanted her to be my friend, because she was so sweet and real.
She showed us the house and told every little detail that came up in her mind. It took her more than an hour to finish the tour. Just because we were all talking a lot and staying in every room more time than actually needed to show what room it was. It was so much fun. I would've loved staying in that house but it was too small for all of us. So after meeting the family, we went to our hotel, also a very nice place of course, with an escalator of glass, and golden details. I immediately felt like a princes. I knew this vacation would be perfect, even thought my dream of meeting Il Volo probably wouldn't come true. Or maybe it will, you never know.