I am an English Writing major, but sometimes I fail. Sometimes I make spelling mistakes and sometimes words just utterly escape me. This happened to me last week on my spring break, where upon travelling to Italy to see the ancient cites of Rome and walk the many side streets of Florence, all I could say was “this is stupid.”
By this, I do not mean to say that Italy was insufficient or lacking in any way. Rather, most everything was so spectacular that it was, in fact, stupid. It was stupid how easily one could wander through small alley streets and then come upon something like the Pantheon in Rome or Santa Croce in Florence or at least some age-old gorgeous fountain adorned with statues and with its own mythology. It was stupid how much I salivated just walking around town because delicious food and smells were everywhere. It was stupid how well I had been saving my money while here in Europe and how many things I bought in the many street markets that litter Florence. It was stupid how much gelato I ate because it was often cheaper than water.
And the task of explaining to everyone who asks me how I liked Rome and Florence? Stupid.
I am fully aware of how much an injustice I am doing to Rome and Florence, but, really I am doing my best. All I will say is that I love exploring any city, but Florence and Rome are most definitely special places to be, no matter what you are doing. Here are the only thoughts and memories that I am able to articulate:
Trevi Fountain: Normally I hate tourists. I love doing those things that tourists do, ie visit all the sites, but I hate feeling like I am among such a crowd as tourist crowds inevitably are: ignorant, loud, noisy, pushy. The three times I visited the Trevi fountain, there were quite a few tourists, but make me a pizza, gelato, or wine picnic and I am perfectly content to lounge around on the steps of the fountain for hours, watching people throw their coins in the fountain or take pictures with their loved ones. I will even help those couples who do not want to take “selfies,” by taking their picture for them.
Pizza and Pasta after the Colosseum: One of my favorite moments in Rome was grabbing a late lunch after the Colosseum. My three companions and I had spent the last couple hours spending our mental energies imagining what the Colosseum and the Roman Forum was like a thousand years ago. Stumbling upon a side street a little ways away from the Colosseum, we sat outside, ordered a margherita pizza, cacio e pepe (a perfectly simple parmesan and black pepper pasta dish), and a homemade lasagna. It was one of those perfect travelling moments where we were left a little numb but what we had just seen but we were also able to enjoy a warm sun, a breeze, and a really good off-schedule meal. The experience was made complete by our very Italian waiter, who recounted his childhood in Rome while he helped us figure out our map and explained that Rome is so beautiful that you have to see its sites twice: in the morning and at night.
Train through Tuscany: The regional train we took from Rome to Florence was nothing like the TGV I have taken in France: it was dirty and a little too warm for comfort. Yet the surrounding countryside was more than adequate enough of a distraction. I would have taken a million pictures of all the perpetually golden-lit rolling hills, the occasional villas, and winding rivers if the windows of the train had not been so dirty.
The Art in Florence: In Rome, I was struck by the history of it all. All the monuments and statues just made me think about how such a city could have lived as long as it had. Florence had a different kind of air and sense of beauty. I found this both in visiting Santa Croce and the Duomo – both birthplaces of the Renaissance – and in wandering around the city, which I am sure is mostly just side streets, finding artisan shops on every corner in addition to homemade leather, paper, pottery, and other beautiful things.
I will also partially blame my lack of eloquence on the fact that this is a big month for me. I stop living in France in about a week, start a three-week backpacking trip around Europe directly after, and in exactly a month, I take a plane home to see the family and country that I have not seen in four months. Give me a break.
On that note, I would also like to say that I am stupid-lucky to be here and that I am incredibly grateful for all those who have made the last couple months a reality for me. Really, I do not have the words to thank you.
