My first "solo" move into a place of my own was also my first "big" move. I had been in the Navy for three years but had always lived in barracks. In 1973, I was assigned to an Army post in northern Italy in the city of Vicenza. I was a journalist/broadcaster and Vicenza was the location of the Armed Forces Radio Service (AFRS) facility that served Italy. The Army was the "senior" branch of service in Italy and, therefore, hosted the AFRS station. I was one of two Navy people there. There were also two Air Force broadcasters. The rest were Army and civilians (as many civilians as military!!!).
Being a Navy man on an Army post had its perks, including a room to myself in the barracks when I first arrived. Unlike others in my paygrade (E-4, at that time), I was authorized (nay, encouraged) to live off post and the Navy was offering me an allowance for quarters (i.e. living accommodations).
I signed up with the housing office to tour available apartments/homes. I finally found the right fit for me. It was a third-story apartment (top floor) in a nice complex (six apartments, 2 per floor) about 2 miles from the post (Caserma Ederle in Vicenza, Italy).
I had two balconies -- one in front off the living room and one in back off my bedroom. My living room "view" was a large cornfield, beyond which was the major street off which Caserma Ederle was positioned. I could see the tops of the roofs on the post. It was all about 3/4 mile from the center of Vicenza.
I felt rather "suburban" in an "urban" environment (what with the cornfield and all). The road linking me to the post ran down the middle of the cornfields. I bought an old Fiat, but I also had a bicycle. The bicycling to work, especially for night shifts, was very eerie...and "Harvest Home" would always run through my head as I pedaled along the road. It was even eerier when I had to stop for a train (a track ran through the cornfields, too, crossing the road I traveled).
I had a great view of some low mountains out my bedroom window. There was also an unobstructed view of a rather unique-looking building out in what seemed to be a pasture. While there were no cows, it was all open land, very grassy and nicely maintained. I later learned this building had a name: La Rotonda, and it had been designed/built by Italian architect Andrea Palladio (whose name lent itself to "Palladium" as a "style"). The "Rotunda" was Thomas Jefferson's inspiration for the center section of Monticello.
Atop the mountain (called Monte Berrico) was an old monastery that occasionally rang bells that wafted over the countryside.
I cannot recall how long I lived there before waking one day to one of the most spectacularly "clear" days ever. In general, Vicenza was foggy in one way or another...high fog, that looked like clouds or ground-hugging, lung-filling, so-thick-you-had-to-feel-your-way-through-it fog (and I came to love it). On this day, though, there was no fog. I stood on my bedroom balcony and took in all the sights. Off to the right, I could see the city rooftops and spires of churches and a bell tower. And....WHAT? What was that beyond the city? HUGE, TOWERING mountains. Snow-capped, too. I later learned they were called "The Dolomites", the Italian section of the Alps. Incredible sight. It was in Europe that I experienced mountains so high they took your breath away.
My apartment was cozy, had two bedrooms (or three if you don't want a dining room), and had every room off a central entryway. Tiny kitchen, nice-sized living room, marble floors and high windows.
I loved the independence. I loved the privacy. I loved it that folks enjoyed invitations to come over. I still have a fondness for that first apartment.
