Under the Tuscan Sun

A fashion photographer friend once told Jacob that he likes shooting in Italy best because the light falls in a special way. 
It's more golden somehow.
It diffuses like particles of liquid honey.

Well, we finished up in London, which was pretty traumatic, so we thought it might be wise to see and feel some bonafied liquid honey sun.

And we weren't dissapointed.

This post will be largely pictorial because
a) I'm feverishly trying to catch up on this whirlwind week and a half we spent tromping around Europe now that our London life is over, and
b) that means I should keep my stupid fingers shut because
c) Tuscany speaks for itself.

You see, the thing about Tuscany is that it actually looks the way it does in calendars.

And even the best of point-and-shoots couldn't do it justice.

It seeped into my veins and filled me with a dazzling new optimism. 

I am so thrilled about existence.

Even  after getting extremely lost late at night and getting off a random bus in a tiny town with no taxis or buses or anything.

And the pizza rocks.

And I am so in love.

Ciao Toscane,

Banana