The Long Way To Como
Too many Negronis, heavy pours of Super Tuscans, and a 300-kilometer journey to paradise.
As I peeled my head off of the flattened pillow, I knew I had made several mistakes. The sun had only just risen yet I already knew I couldn’t wait for it to go back down. As one does, I began recounting the drinks I had the day before.
Champagne-filled spritzes at the pool all afternoon.
Pre-ceremony Negronis.
Post-ceremony Negronis.
Bottles of Tuscan red wine.
Upon reviewing the captain’s log, the situation only became more dire while I stared directly at my unpacked suitcase, its contents strewn about the room. Each piece of clothing a separate reminder of everything that led up to that moment — a swimsuit still damp on a chair outside, my green linen suit thrown on a chair, one sneaker nowhere to be found.
We needed to leave Tuscany early enough that we’d still catch sunlight at our final destination: the five-star sanctuary that is Villa d’Este.
Locate the Advil Liquigels. Find an espresso. Dress comfortably. Don’t panic. The to-do list seemed all too easy.
The Jeep we’d rented would be our trusty steed. With the trunk filled to the brim and our CarPlay still not fully functioning, we said goodbye to the bride and groom before setting our sights on the beauty and relaxation of Northern Italy. All that separated us from paradise was a five-and-a-half hour drive, a pitstop in Modena for sandwiches and a glass of rosé, and the worst hangover I’d experienced in my 30s.
“I’ll start the drive,” my wife said as she looked at me heavy-breathing in the passenger seat. “Are you… are you okay?”
Unfortunately, I wasn’t.
