As you depart the farmer’s market, a farmer reminds you that Vesuvio apricots have been grown on those volcanic slopes since before Christ.

Intent on tearing apart your little paper bag to get to them, you sit on the edge of the fountain in the charming town square and unapologetically cram a whole juicy apricot into your mouth while trying not to giggle. You fill your lungs with the wind brimming with golden leaves that gently smell of soft amber… and your mind calms. You pop over to the sunny gelateria across the piazza for a double handmade Bourbon vanilla gelato.

No one will know about your naughty little treat if you don’t tell them.

As you devour your last bit, the unforgettable scent of blossoms from plum trees lining the cobblestone street takes your breath away.

You wonder if cancelling your plane ticket home is an option. Perhaps...