5a.m. Fresh sea wind blowing into my face. Pink sky. A palm and full moon on the background. Maroon5 in my headphones. Me jogging with a foreigner communicating using my gestures. Sea,captured by my eye in the end of narrow streets between the buildings. But let's start from the very beginning. Late warm winter,early spring,or something in-between.Four people inHonda passing through cities,woods,and lakes.An endless highway.NightBudapest views rapidly changing behind the window.I close my eyes...Morning.Sunrise.Winding mountain road in front of us,fabulousAlps with snow caps.They resemble cupcakes topped with powdered sugar. My dad drove for24hours without long pauses.Tension in the air,mixed with thirst for new landscapes. We entered the country of our destination and stopped to gas up thecar.The gas station operator was very friendly and kept talking to my father.As my dad doesn’t speak foreign languages at all,he just shook the palm from side to side near his neck(for drivers in my country this means'full tank,please').The operator’s face was worth seeing.With eyes popping out,he nervously finished his job and disappeared.’Full tank'there turns out to be shown by moving palm above your head.The gesture my dad had performed would mean‘you’re a deadman'.Poor thing. We kept going.A few kilometres left.I watched this sunny country from the backseat,listening to thelocal radio.What a marvelous language,what a lively rhythm!It appeals to your heart,makes you dance.‘...l'autoradio sempre nella mano destra Un canarino sopra la finestra...’ Finally we arrived.Balcony breakfast,fresh croissants.Upbeat people beaming with smiles in thestreets passionately discussing some everyday stuff.One by one I caught incredibly charming words,as‘merenda’(means late lunch). Olive oil salads on the table,piles of pizza boxes in thekitchen.We have firstly met our foreign relatives.Loud emotional conversations by the dinner,dozens of gestures changing in a flash. People there give greeting cheek kisses everyone around.My dad appeared to be quite embarrassed whenCarlo gave him one.He wasn’t aware of this tradition in advance,so his outrage withCarlo's confusion resulted into very awkward situation.Luckily we all have a good sense of humor. Food seemed to be a religion there.We had a belly party instead of a vacation.Dozens of cheese,pasta with tomato sauce,splendid home-made wine,pastry shops on every corner and gelato which is no doubt out of this world. Unfortunately,time flew by extremely fast.A soup opera scene:gloomy weather,rain drops on thewindow,me crying in the car of reluctance to leave.I gave myself a promise to come back soon. I did return on my own in a few months.I also had a domestic flight from the northern region to southern one. Me boarding the plane for the first time.Jitters together with expectation of something riveting.Sitting by the porthole,watching passing clouds,I didn’t feel a solid ground under my feet.Sunset on the semi-circular horizon.Flying above thevolcano,the world certainly was my oyster. I strove to avoid proper names,but I can’t help mentioning we arrived inCalabria region(what a nice word!).That’s what we started from:pink morning sky,me jogging.My strongest association withCalabria is unforgettable pastry of almond dough and almond milk. Being alone in foreign family,I had no choice but to plunge into theatmosphere.I knew very few words in their language,but we had so much fun,laughter didn’t stop in our house.We were teaching each other our mother tongues.Imagine two 45-year-old men standing in my bedroom on the one leg,another knee raised,lifting arms into the air like a bird and screaming:‘nechoho’(means‘nothing’inUkrainian). Thetown we stopped in lies at the seaside and in themountains as well.Such a contrast:from empty silent beach for thelocals upward to the view of the whole coastline. A clear shape of a volcano.Grape- and raspberry-coloured sunset on the background.We having a meal outside therestaurant on the steep mountain and watching.Looked like a little paradise.What could be better? Needless to say that mainland edge views and tourist resorts were as different as chalk and cheese.Loud dynamic music,Aperol glasses,people dancing bachata on thebeach.This diversity is indescribably attractive. Returning again and again,I've spent 5months there in total.I’ve visited no sights which60million of tourists every year do.No volcano,no city on water,no fashion capital,no amphitheater,no leaning tower,no other terrific places. I saw the inside.Being relatives of the locals,I became a local for those5months,too. I lack words to describe what I did feel. Pink sky. Alps. Gelato. People dancing bachata. Volcano under my feet. Delight and adoration filling my heart up. Italy.