One word: homeland.
Shortly after landing in the land from whence my last name came (though I’m really less Italian than anything else, ancestrally) the wine started flowing and five days of pasta, pizza and gelato commenced.
After finding the Leaning Tower (less anti-climatic than I had imagined, actually) the five of us plopped down at the first restaurant we found, and 7 liters of wine and a raging hangover later we were on our way to Florence. Sadly, we left possibly mere hours before the cast of the Jersey Shore arrived, but we did have time for some serious flea market shopping and to spend more on two amazing meals than I do on groceries in a month.
By the time we got to Venice we were weary, with blistered feet and constantly dehydrated from a combination of too much wine and sun. We mustered the energy to see the sights, but spent a large amount of time just sitting by the water, waiting for the next Ambulanza to race by and singing to passing gondolas.