Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! It’s an Italian festival. A few blocks from our house, we have San Diego’s Little Italy. It’s like walking down memory lane for me. My dad was a stereotypical Italian man. But I never knew this until I moved here and realized that this is how Italian men are. Of course watching the Sopranos was a little eye-opening, too! Yeeks!
This woman was dancing through the street followed by a band. The smell of garlic and red sauce-laden pasta filled the air. We rode bikes down to the festival and then moseyed over to the car show.
This dude was guarding the gondola. It was so hot, we were wishing we were in a gondola … on a river … in Venice!
Here I am snorking down an icy, fresh squeezed lemonade. It was daaah-lishous!
Over at the car show, a cool vee-dub bus had everyone taking snaps. And, why yes, it smelled like patchouli! Perhaps that was covering up another smell? I loved the vintage luggage and cooler on the roof.