I have to admit that my initial impression of Bologna wasn’t the best. Granted, we arrived at 10 p.m. on a Monday night, and the area near our hotel wasn’t exactly lively. It was a bit to the contrary; a little deserted and creepy. Even in Rome, I felt a lot more settled at night than I did in Bologna, but something shifted from Monday night to Tuesday night.

It was like the entire town came out of their slumber and hit the streets, and it was awesome. Granted, I was sick and didn’t really get to partake in said hitting the streets, but it still felt like an entirely different place from one day to the next and that was what I liked about Bologna; it seemed to change with the day.

I really enjoyed visiting the University of Bologna, and was impressed by all of the shields. I thought that was a cool way to honor past professors.

Many of my favorite Italy moments involved artists and musicians, and Bologna was no exception. I met a man whose name I honestly can’t even say, (I just know it started with a C) that sold me an adorable library drawing. He told us that he lived in Bologna but managed to not only know not one man from Pittsburgh, but two, and the second was living in Ireland. He apologized for his English even though it was great, and he drew Mary a picture in her moleskine for free. There was also the precious cello player whose name I also don’t know (my bad) who really blew us all away and got people dancing.