To be on the top of the world. That’s what it felt like when I reached the top of the Duomo yesterday, but I didn’t think I would make it up. The sign at the bottom said that there were four hundred and eighty-two stairs to climb. I was tempted to turn away but the picture perfect view beckoned me. So I paid the eight euro to climb the stairs. They were tight and uncomfortable. Only one person could go up at a time (which makes me glad I didn’t go when they were busy). The corridors were stale, musty, and humid. The only relief came for the small, sometimes 4X4, windows that were staggered every five feet (and that was that was only if they were opened). That’s how it is as you climb the spiral staircase, until you got closer to the top. The breeze is strong and fulls the corridor with fresh sweet air and just when you think you’ve reached the top…they give you vertical steps and you groan inwardly. However, the moment you make it onto the tower; you lose what’s left of your breath. You can see all of Florence and  you felt like you rule it all.  You could be God….if you are brave enough to look over the edge (which I wasn’t). You can see for miles and the mountains surround you on three sides, some of them you can see the top of while the other peaks are covered by clouds. There is no other word to describe this amazing view except for breathtaking.