When we first arrived at hotel Ibis and were given maps of the city the first thing I said was, “Why the hell was I just handed a map of Pan’s Labrinth?” Seriously, I can honestly say that I’ve never seen a map that confusing in my entire life. While walking to the Duomo di Milano my opinion did not change in the slightest. Milan remained to be extremely difficult to navigate, although, we did only get lost twice during our journey to the cathedral. Honestly, Milan was not what I expected. Don’t get me wrong, Duomo di Milano and Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II were both magnificent, but the rest of the city was far from glamorous. I was under the impression that the city would look a lot like Rome and Bologna. To me, the city instead looked like a less impressive version of New York City. Even though the look of the city was not really what I expected, there were a few aspects of Milan that I did enjoy. One place that I enjoyed in Milan was called Luini’s. Luini’s is filled with amazing food. I ended up ordering their salami and mozzarella panzerotto. Actually, I ended up ordering two more panzerottos after scarfing down the first. They were just that good. Browsing through the stores in Milan was also an interesting experience. I never knew that a simple clothing or home goods store could look like a five-star resort. Jenna and I walked into a store that had at least five different levels. Oh, and did I mention the marble floors? Those stores are something I could have never imagined . In the end, Milan had a few interesting places to visit but I am glad we spent more time in the other cities. If given the opportunity to go back and visit Milan again, I would probably decline.

Mary Shelley once stated,”Perhaps a corpse would be re-animated; galvanism had given token of such things.” This very quote is what floated into my mind when while I gazed down upon the very table that inspired Shelley to write the story of Frankenstein. While looking down I could almost imagine the look of shock on Shelley’s face when she saw the frog being reanimated. It is hard to believe that something like a frog resurrection could inspire a story as profound as Frankenstein. When we first arrived in Bologna last night the first thought I had was, “Holy crap, this place reminds me of Pittsburgh. ” Honestly, my opinion hasn’t changed. The set up of the city is very similiar to the one in Pittsburgh. Other then the fact that Bologna is home to the towers of Bologna and the University of Bologna, there is much of a difference between the two cities, at least in my eyes. Today, a group of us climbed one of the towers. The entire experience was amazing. Although, we panted like dehydrated dogs most of the way up, and scared of tumbling down the slanted steps, we made it to the top. Seeing Bologna from such a different perspective served as such an eye opener. It was not until then that I realized just how huge Bologna is. Plus the fact that we climbed hundreds of steps. I consider today and our visit to Bologna a tiny and well deserved win for us all.

Poppi offered something that I did not expect what so ever. Visiting this ancient wonder is more worthwhile than any cruise or island vacation could ever be. The Tuscan hills are a sight that no words can ever accurately convey. When I think of Poppi, two words come to mind. One of those words is ancient. When you look out from the giant hill (mountain) Poppi is located on you can literially imagine battles taking place before you. Battles such as the Battle of Campaldino. You can picture Dante’s determined form riding swiftly towards the Castle of Poppi. The second word I think of when I picture Poppi is green. Between the lucious greens of the grass and trees, and the beautiful flowers, everyone’s allergies, including mine, skyrocketed. It was wonderful. Every angle of Poppi looked like it belonged in a catalog full of potential vacation destinations. Poppi shares aspects with the Barney Stinson phenomenon. It is literally impossible to get a bad picture of the beautiful Poppi.  Even the people of Poppi were almost fairytale like. All of them were kind and extremely kind. They helped us, who were obvious outcasts feel at home even though most of Poppi’s inhabitants barely speak English, if at all. In the future I hope to visit Poppi again. It is a beautiful and magical place that is often over looked. Honestly,  Poppi is a good place to get inspired. I bet I could crank out a book evey six months just with the view alone.

Before leaving for our overseas adventure, I did a little reasearch. I want to emphasize the word little because I did not do the actual research, but instead read articles given to me by my family members, friends, and teachers. What I did not expect was to end up with a head cold on my free day in Florence. Instead of making my way through the list I made for myself to do, I instead made my way through the line at the local pharmacy. Three butchered Italian words later I bought my cold medicine and hybernated for the remainder of the day. Now lets Rewind back to a much more interesting event, or story, before my cold medicine enduced coma. I left the apartment around 8:30am and made a right. My goal was to make it to the Ponte Veechio before the crowd set in. Back home I am widely known for my horrendous directional skills. Seriously, I’ve gotten lost on my way to a supermarket that I’ve been to a hundred times before. Going into my morning mini adventure, I had a lot of doubts concerning my ability to navigate Florence. Those doubts made me paranoid. About halfway to my destination I ended up having a miniscule freak out and ducked into the bookstore La Feltrenelli. After a few minutes of perusing through the books, a sense of calmness set in. I was no longer freaking out and knew exactly what direction I needed to go in. For the remainder of my journey I people watched. There were no vendors set up yet and most tourists were still sleeping soundly in their beds. I found it interesting watching the vendors set up. For once not a single vendor was trying to wrap a scarf around a neck or a bracelet around a wrist. They were dead silent and solely concentrating on setting up for the day. The locals looked at peace. They could leisurely walk the sidewalks without having to worry about running head on into a pack of tourists. When I finally arrived at the Ponte Veechio, I was in for a pleasant surprise. The entire area was deserted. There wasn’t a single tourist in sight. I had free reign to take pictures from various angles and stand there basking in the bridges magnificence. I did the same at the Medici Chapel and a few othen piazzas. Being alone in Florence makes you feel more at one with the area because, at least for a little while, you feel like a local instead of just another American tourist.

There is just something about Florence. The moment that we arrived in Florence, I knew that there was something different about this place. Some unrecognizable and potent energy that reverberates from underneath your feet. Florence offers up a level of beauty that cannot be overshadowed by any other place. Between it’s rich history of Renaissance success and the success of the artists that still roam the streets. Florence is, and will remain to be, a wonderful mixture of the old and new. I have never been much of an artsy person. Though it is true that I am a writer, and writers are considered artists, I do not consider myself a creative writer. I would take writing a set of voter registration directions over writing a poem any day of the week. That being said, I have never really put that much thought into art before. Sometimes I will think to myself that a piece is eye catching, or that a animal in a picture is cute, but about a minute later I will move onto something different. I have been this way my entire life, up until yesterday. Yesterday when we were at the Uffitzi Galery I finally gained that appreciation for art that I have been somehow lacking for all this time. Seeing the famous pieces of art that before I only saw on websites or in the wrinkled pages of textbooks, served as an enlightening experience. While gazing upon and noticing the amount of detail that went into Michelangelo’s paintings I could feel how much of himself that he put into each of his painting. The amount of raw detail was breathtaking. I felt the same way after encountering Michelangelo’s David statue. You could literially see every single detail of the human body, down to a t. I just could not look away. Now, while I walk through the streets of Florence I notice so much more. I notice the immense amount of artistry that still thrives throughout the city, where even a simple street sign can be turned into a humorous rendention of a stick figure. Even in the centuries to come, Florence’s reputation will never be tarneshed and continue to thrive.