48 Hours in Barcelona

Barcelona - an extremely popular tourist destination for people from all over the world. Why did I decide to go? I love art (and I wanted put my high school Spanish skills to the test). Barcelona has some amazing artistic displays from Picasso, Dali, and Gaudi to street performers, artisan markets, and graffiti. There is something there for everyone and I want to take it all in.

Friday

3 pm – Take Some Time to be a Tourist…

La Rambla is one of the most touristy areas in Barcelona, about 14 million tourists visit it every year, but it’s also a must see. You can find a little bit of everything – artists, florists, paella, millions of Barcelona souvenirs, street performers, artisan markets, the list goes on and on. Get your souvenir shopping done early so you can spend the rest of your time enjoying the city. Start with a

visit to the Artesian Market at the southern most end of the street near the naval district, stop in at the Mercat Boqueria in the middle of the street, and finish at Placa de Catalunya. The street is filled with people in the middle of the afternoon including robbers so make sure to watch your bags and pockets.

6 pm – …And then avoid them

The Arc de Triumph was built in 1888 as the entrance to the World Exhibition. Today it is one of the symbols of the city and one of the most photographed areas in the city, but it is not overly crowded. The Arc is located at the end of the Passeig de Lluís Companys, an urban park. It is about a 15-minute walk from La Rambla and does not nearly have as many tourists. It is very near to a train station, the bus station, the Barcelona zoo, and Cascada fountain. The park is a great place to relax with friends and is a favorite hang out for locals at night.

8 pm – Grab some Grub

On a backpacker’s budget, eating can really drain your bank account, but Spain is the land of tapas, small appetizer size dishes that you can share with friends. They usually run pretty cheap (2-10 Euros) and you can find them everywhere. There will also be several people handing out flyers for restaurants. They are usually offering a discount or free item. If you’re on a budget it’s worth a try, I ended up eating at Sinate Lounge Bar (c/ Heures 4-10 08002 Barcelona) and it was fantastic.

11 pm – Go Out

There are bars and nightclubs all over Barcelona, but be weary of anything too far on the left side of La Rambla, after ten o’clock the robbers and prostitutes come out. You will see a lot of people handing out flyers at this time too, but here it usually means that the bar is bad or in a back alley so be careful. Try finding a bar that has a crowd and is not full of American college students – you can find that in America try something new. My favorite is Bar 32 on Ample owned by an Irish man named Rowland. Here you can get a chance to meet some English-speaking locals and get tips about traveling in the city. Meeting the locals, even if they aren’t native, is crucial. They can direct you to the best and cheapest places to eat, shop, and have fun that you can’t find in your guidebook.

Saturday

10 am – The Arts

Barcelona is full of art museums so take your pick. I recommend the Picasso Museum or, my personal favorite, the Museum of Contemporary Art. Both are very popular museums, but not overcrowded and are reasonably priced (each museum is 6 Euro for a student ticket). The Museum of Contemporary Art was a good break from the ordinary art museum with walls and walls of paintings. There is nothing ordinary about it. There are movies, sculptures, pictures, flashing lights, music, poetry, and so much more. The building itself is modern art designed by American architect, Richard Meier, in the style of Le Corbusier. Even for non-art enthusiasts it is a very cool experience.

1 pm – Get Lost!

“I’ve lived here for years and I still get lost, the city is so big! But that’s how you find all of the best places,” says Belen waitress at Picnic café. Try picking a side street off of La Rambla and meander through the town. You will get a great view of the city and find a hidden restaurant that is not overrun with tourists. The best way to learn about a city is to get lost there so try getting lost for lunch. I was able to find several great restaurants on my trip, but my favorite was Picnic (Calle Comerce 1) a British owned restaurant that serves American food with a Spanish twist. You can get a big lunch there for around 10 Euros. I highly recommend the pulled pork sandwich.

3 pm – Alien Invasion

There are churches all over Europe, but none can compare to La Sagrada Familia. Gabriel a local bed and breakfast owner says, “It’s an absolutely surreal experience you have to see it, even if you aren’t religious, it’s just incredible.” Though it is not yet completed and will not be for another 50 years, it is still worth the visit and the 10 Euros it costs to get in. The church was started in 1882 and Antoni Gaudi was commissioned in 1883 working until his death in 1926, the church still reflects Gaudi’s original vision. There are currently 8 of Gaudi’s planned 18 towers built dedicated to the apostles, Jesus, and the Virgin Mary. You can travel in the towers for an additional fee of 2,50 Euro. The Church will officially be commissioned as a Basilica by Pope Benedict XVI this coming November and hoped to be completed in 2026 on the 100^th year anniversary of Gaudi’s death.

7 pm – Go to the Port

In the early evening Port Vell, is the place to be. There are bands playing all over the place collecting an audience and selling their CDs. If you get a chance, try to catch Microguagua they usually play on Passeig National near the Museu D’Historia de Catalunya. You can find all kinds of music from singer/songwriters playing a solo on their guitar to reggae cello players to a Didgeridoo. Restaurants and food carts line the sides of the ports for a scenic dinner. This is one place where locals and tourists both

flock to at night. You will find families picnicking, pick up soccer games, and lots of skateboarders.

You can spend all night at the Port. The beach has clubs up and down the street crowded with both locals and tourists. If you do go to a club expect to be out late – locals do not go out until around one in the morning and dance all night long. For a good local club try Ryan’s located right on the beach. Many like to club hop all night long.

Sunday

11 am – Hit the Beach

Before you get on your flight back home, take some time to relax and soak up some sun. There are several less crowded beaches along the Spanish coast within an hour train ride of Barcelona including Villanova, but Barceloneta is the easiest beach to get to, located right in Barcelona parallel to Port Vell. The beach is very popular with tourists and locals alike so it is very crowded. It is free, open to the public, and has public showers and restrooms.

If You Go…

Where To Stay

· Gabriel’s Bed and Breakfast

o You can choose to stay in an apartment or a hotel. I chose the hotel and I was able to stay with other families and single travelers. It is very safe and located at a great location right off La Rambla. I stayed in a double for about 35 Euro a night.

o http://www.bbgabriel.eu/index-English.html

· Sant Jordi Alberg Hostel

o Voted one of the top ten hostels in the world, this hostel is located in the heart of the city and has free Internet, towels, sheets, and storage. The staff is very friendly and will make sure that you have a great time there. If you’re a backpacker looking for a party, this is the place to go.

o http://www.santjordihostels.com/

Where To Eat

· Picnic

o The owners of the restaurant are people from the UK who fell in love with Barcelona and decided to stay in the city. You can get your fill of traditional American, British, and Irish dishes with a Spanish influence without breaking your budget.

o Calle Comerc 1

o www.picnic-resturant.com

· Sinatra

o A chic and stylish Mediterranean infused restaurant located slightly off of La Rambla. This is one of the few places I’ve found in Europe where they actually have waiters up to the American standards, but this means you need to tip by American standards. It is a good date restaurant and a place to hang out with friends. The food is excellent, but a little pricy.

o c/ Heures 4-10

o www.sinatrabcn.com

Fashion Shoot

I love photography – I like to shoot for fun and I’ve “art directed” some smaller photo shoots at my internship before nothing too big. Today I got to go to a fashion photo shoot with Jerry Ingram. Jerry works with Miami taking pictures of us at different events and speaking with the journalism class, but he is also a famous fashion photographer, who has worked with some of the top designers including Ferragamo and Max Mara. So when Dr. Bernheim offered us the chance to go to a photo shoot with him (and Armani male models) I was all over it.

There were only a few people from the group who came – Erica, Katie, Jen, and me, but I’m really glad we had a small group. I had to opportunity to talk with the hair and makeup/stylist and all the photographers. I was really shy at first, but Jerry said that he was doing this for us so we were all taking pictures with our own cameras while Jerry and the other photographers were shooting the models.

I have a pretty nice camera –

a Canon Rebel XS (ok so my mom has a nice camera, but I have it on this trip) and I probably took more pictures than anyone so the photographers started to drift over and look at my shots. Surprisingly they were impressed. They said that they really liked my angles and vision and started to help me learn some of the technical side of photography. Jerry had started to teach me a dinner the night

before and he kept helping me at the shoot. It was amazing! (Seriously how many people get a one-on-one lesson from a famous fashion photographer?!) I was the last one standing out of our small group and Jerry let me use his camera to shoot the models. I got to lead the show! I was so excited and happy and nervous and slightly embarrassed all at the same time (so I only did it for a very short time), but I’m so glad I did it. I can’t wait to see how the pictures turn out – I saw them on the camera, but it’s not the same thing as seeing them in person.

On a side note: thank you Jerry for the models! They were absolutely gorgeous! Even if he did put them in ridiculous “Gay Punk” outfits.

Fabulous!

Its fashion week in journalism!

The class went to Polimoda one of the top fashion institutes in the world with designers Nick Verreos and Althea Harper. Once we climbed up a ridiculously steep hill to get there, we got to learn all about the school and go on a tour. The director of the institute, the famous Linda Lopa, gave us a welcome and we heard from their international staff all about the school. Then the professor of, Benjamin Mahotra, gave us a lesson on fashion marketing using Levi’s jeans. It was very cool to see all of the ads, but I’m still not entirely sure what his point was (and it took him an hour and a half to get there…). Finally, Kim Coston wrapped up talking about her career in fashion marketing and fashion journalism. Then it was back to the Aula for NICK VERREOS!!! I’m a huge Project Runway fan so I was so excited for this part. I never got to see season six so I missed all of Althea’s work, but after viewing her collection online I really liked it.

Althea was first and she explained to us how she came to be a designer and her process for making a collection. I really liked her talk. She was really nice, passionate, and down to earth. When she was describing her collection and all of the effort that she put into it I was blown away. Her inspiration for her collections was so well thought out and very complex, but you could definitely see it in the final product. I was very impressed with her. I went to talk to her after her speech, she was so nice (mom she says hi), and she knows Lebanon – she went to Oakwood.

Then Nick’s speech that he jokingly calls “My life as a black child.” He is an incredible public speaker, entertaining, and has a great story to tell. He talked all about his life and how he came to get where he is today with his “no should’ve, would’ve, could’ve” attitude toward everything. Nick is an amazing designer and he almost never became one because of the stereotype that

he faced - “Damn this is being mega gay! Like really God! You couldn’t make me a fricking architect!” Well I for one am glad that the “diva mother up there” made him a designer. He’s so funny and over the top I just loved him! He’s – to use one of his favorite words – FABULOUS!

After his speech a group of us went out to dinner – Nick, his partner David, Erica, Kaitlin, Alessandro, Annie, Mr. Hardesty, Dr. B, Jerry Ingram, and I. It was so much fun! We ate at the Golden View right on the Arno near the Ponte Vecchio. It was a blast! It was so cool to be able to be in that small of a group and really get to talk to them. The best was when Mr. Fashion Police, red carpet designer, Nick told me he loved my outfit and had me model it. I had so much fun with Nick! He is one of the funniest people ever. I hope he had a good time with the Miami group. I am so glad he came. It was the best class I’ve had…ever.

Matt Reinecke

Most everyone who travels abroad claims that they never want to leave, but few actually stay. California native, Matt Reinecke, is one of the few. Abroad in London in 1984, he was reading Romeo and Juliet listening to the Grateful Dead when he met 18-year-old Cristina from Florence, Italy. They were only able to spend two days together
before Matt had to return home. They continued to write to each other for the next two years. He then moved to Florence and married her. Today they have two children – 13-year-old Davide and 6-year-old Francesca.

Living in Italy for so long Matt began to miss American treats – especially bagels. He had his friends FedEx him bagels from New York for several years before he decided to learn how to make them himself. After he received a golden parachute from his job as an investment banker,

Matt came up with the idea to sell the American foods that he missed so much. In 2008, Matt and Cristina opened Mama’s Bakery (http://www.mamasbakery.it/) on Via della Chiesa selling American style sandwiches, cupcakes, cookies, and – of course – bagels. Today the business is thriving – apparently Italian women, who make up 80% of sales, love sweets as much as American women.

Matt has greater ambitions for his shop. “I don’t want to be making bagels for the rest of my life. I’m a business man.” Matt enjoys working with his wife, but he does not like the 14-hour days or the smaller paycheck. He plans to open additional Mama’s stores in Florence and expand the menu to appeal to Italians.

She Moves In Her Own Way

We made it. I’m alive. I don’t have to sleep under a car. Hallelujah. Praise God. This is already shaping up to be the most insane trip ever. And I kind of like it. To get here we had to ride a train, get on a plane, take an hour and half bus ride, walk for 45 minutes get lost three times, find the hotel, navigate the maze, and finally we found Gabriel – he was like a guardian angel.

There are some really creepy guys here. On the train I met a guy named Castilo. He came and sat down across from me so I thought hey why not interview him for journalism? Didn’t work out the only word he knows in English is no. But he did keep asking me my name, my age, where I’m from, etc. Then he got really weird and started taking pictures on his phone of everyone in our group. When he got off he stood on the platform and waved goodbye. I really hope I don’t run into him again. And just a few pointers for European guys “Hey baby what you doing tonight” will never work.

On the plane I met two guys named David and Simeon they were very funny and kind of cute, and from Florence! Perfect! I can interview them. Nope their English is not that good. I did have a fun time trying to talk to them and playing along with all of David’s failed card tricks. After about an hour I was getting “I love you, I love you.” Well that was entertaining at least. I wouldn’t recommend Ryan Air to anyone though.

After getting off the bus Barcelona we go with a bit bigger group of people who are staying in the same area as we are. Well it turns out that the leader of the pack is a guy they happened to meet on the plane (visions of Taken were popping into my head). Ryan turned out to be a pretty cool guy. He’s a hockey player from Chicago who has been traveling the world for a few years and will return home for the first time next week for his mom’s 50^th birthday. He’s a beast – 6’4” hockey player with bowlegs and fluent in Spanish – a pretty nice guy to have around.

Our hotel, which actually turned out to be an apartment, is a maze in itself. There are so many levels with winding staircases and hidden hallways. I think we’ll be pretty safe here I doubt anyone can find us. I just hope that we can find a way out.

Same Old Same Old

If you get injured in Italy I really hope it is not serious especially if you don’t speak Italian. Alessandro says even if you are Italian your chances aren’t good. I hurt my foot/ankle and it was a chore. I had to go see a doctor at a medical center. To get to the office I had to walk up a steep, narrow flight of stairs (keep in mind that I hurt my foot). He spoke a lot of Italian to Alessandro barely touched my foot wrote a prescription and sent me to get an x-ray. It’s almost like going to the Student Health Services at Miami – scary. Then we had to find out where the hospital was. We had to take a bus and then walk around in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. Finally found the hospital then had to walk around outside to another entrance. It was very strange compared to American hospitals (and trust me I’ve seen my fair share) the nurses were not very friendly and the reception area was closed.

After finally getting to the reception area I had to register with a nurse who spoke no English (again thank god for Alessandro) who was confused by my id because of my middle initial. An Italian man once told me, “Italians were too poor to afford middle names, only Americans have enough money.” After finally figuring that out we had to wait for what seemed like an eternity. Ok so it was only 2 and a half hours but it felt long. Alessandro bought me a bottle of frizzante (despite my aversion at the beginning I’ve really grown to like it) and took a siesta. So here I was stuck in a waiting room injured in a room full of people I can’t understand waiting for a nurse with an accent so thick that couldn’t understand her if she called my own name which is what I was waiting for.

The waiting room was almost exactly like an American waiting room except for the vending machines. I have never seen a vending machine without pop in it. There was the standard junk food – chips, cookies, and candy, but the only drinks where water and fruit juice. And people wonder why Americans are so overweight…

Finally after 2 and a half hours they called my name (which I only understood because of Alessandro) and I went to see a doctor for two seconds who asked me to take my shoe off, point to where it hurt, put my shoe back on, and go to another waiting room. This one was not air conditioned, but much more lively. The locals in the room were complaining about the wait and talking about the injuries. They seemed to be pretty happy for the amount of limping going on in there. After awhile I started to talk to Alessandro and we compared notes about life in Italy vs. life in the US. We actually had a lot in common for living thousands of miles apart – both our moms were teachers, we both love the Beatles, and we both think McDonald’s in gross. Minus the whole mafia obsession thing, which who knows after talking to him, I might have to look into it. I would love to be able to talk to more locals like that. I love learning that kind of stuff.

After another hour and a half I got x-rays and then more x-rays. Then it felt like they were kicking everyone out and just rushed through the list of patients, handed them their x-rays, and gave them

a prescription. I may never actually know what I did to myself (although I’m guessing sprained ankle and I think I heard sprained foot). All I got was Italian, Italian, Italian, “No cast,” Italian, Italian, Italian, “Tutor,” Italian, “Air cast” some more Italian and then we were gone.

So now I’m stuck in this stupid air cast for the next 15 or so days (I tried to talk Alessandro into forgetting the whole thing and ignoring the cast, but he wasn’t having it, humph…). Not necessarily my idea of a great vacation, but it has been about a year since I got an x-ray so apparently I was overdue.

München

My weekend in Munich was a very interesting experience. I got a little bit of everything that weekend. We started off the trip with an 8-hour train ride that we were lucky to get (there was a train union strike luckily it was only for the Italian trains). At least I was with a fun group – Erica, Colleen, Connor, Tiffany, and Kristine – we got very close literally I’m glad I’m not claustrophobic.

Our first stop was Dachau. It was intense. You go through a town and then a big group of buildings someone where someone said, “It looks like a children’s camp!” It made me sick that anyone could think that. Do you know where you are?! Even passing through the town was sickening. They had to know what was going on there is no way that you could miss it. Walking into the camp we walked the path to the gait - “Arbeit Macht Frei”. At first it looked empty. There were huge open spaces, but then I learned that they had to burn down the structures and rebuild because the disease was so bad. There were only two of thirty bunks left. After walking through the camp and the monuments placed there by various groups we got to the really bad part – the gas chamber and crematorium. It made my skin crawl to just look at it. I still cannot understand how someone can do it. Doctors were the ones who were pumping in the poisonous gas, people who took oaths to protect people. Then we walked around a memorial trail. I thought it was a very beautiful peaceful place until I read the plaques – “Grave of thousands unknown” and “Execution range with blood ditch.” Walking back to the exit (the same gate that thousands would never come out of again) the only thing that you could hear was the sound gravel crunching under your feet and the occasional tearful outburst. That is something I will never forget.

Though it seemed weird, we were soon back to reality. As tradition has it most of the group bought lederhosen or a dirndl to go out to the Hoffbraugh house later that night. It was ridiculous. People were taking our picture everywhere. A guy from North Carolina wanted to take a picture with me because I was European. I told him I wasn’t and he said to pretend I was. I’d really like to find that picture on facebook somewhere…

The next day was a bike tour through Munich. We passed the golden path, the lions (and rubbed their noses for good luck), the most beautiful house and gardens that I’ve ever seen (straight out of a Jane Austen novel), and several beer gardens including the first and second largest in the world. Don’t worry mom and Dr. Bernheim I had water. Our final stop before heading back was the Eisbach – an artificial river that runs through the English Gardens. It was so much fun and terrifying at the same time. Once you jumped into the shallow river (only about 3 feet) you were swept away by the tide. Then you had to fight your way out clinging on to whatever you could. My second time through I failed miserably and flew right into an English guy which really wasn’t so bad he was very cute.

The next and last day of our vacation was very chill. We slept in and then went to visit Olympic Park (Munich hosted the Olympics in 1972). We headed straight for the giant trampolines which I would have loved to have been able to jump on. Then we were off to yet another beer garden and another frizzante and giant pretzel. Back to the hostel and back to the train. Munich was a very nice place to visit although next time I think I will make my own travel plans.

Azienda Ospedaliero Universitaria

The waiting room of the radiology section of Azienda Ospedaliero Universitaria a hospital in Florence is much like the waiting room of the radiology center of Cincinnati’s Christ Hospital. The walls are pale green with white ceilings, the floors are made of speckled green tile, and the chairs keep you uncomfortably close to the patient next to you. It’s quiet except for a weary looking nurse calling patients’ names. Even the people look the same - an old man dressed in a light blue plaid shirt with his daughter in too-tight pants looking like she’d rather be somewhere else, a young couple reading Glamour and Car and Driver magazines, and one thing group you wouldn’t expect, an entire family. The grandmother was playing with her grandson making baby noises and playing peak-a-boo. The grandfather next to her had dark receding hair speckled with gray and a big bushy mustache to match. He and his son got into a deep discussion in Italian that I would judge to be about business while the Albanian daughter-in-law struggled to contribute to the conversation and only managed the occasional “Mamma Mia!” Everyone else starred at them in annoyance for breaking the silence.

The German

I’m watching Spain vs. Germany World Cup game in Italy (so its broadcast in Italian) with a German man while listening to two Canadian women getting drunk off red wine. I love Hostels. You never know who you’ll meet.

I’m sitting here watching the German man and its very interesting he’s got the stereotypical big German nose and though there is are several distractions in the room he has not looked from the TV once. He could probably be my grandpa. He has old hands. Rough like they were used for hard labor and old veins popping out. I tried to talk to him, but he has bad hearing and speaks broken English. It was a very short conversation and we merely told each other where we were from, but he was very nice. At the end of the game he stood up clapped his hands together and said “Fin” and he left. He is dignified in defeat.

Venezia

Venice is a beautiful city when it isn’t over crowded with. In the early morning in front of the Hotel Messner the locals are out avoiding the tourists and the heat that will emerge later in the day. They are so quiet going through the city the only sound that you can hear is the seagulls flying above your head. From my side of the lagoon I can see all of the old buildings across the street. They are all made of an orange or reddish stucco type material with stone foundations. There is an uneven sidewalk

that juts out from the houses about 5 feet wide ending with a very old hand rail covered with rust to the bottom until it turns into the stonewall. Where the stonewall meets the lagoon there is a constantly moving layer of seaweed and moss. In the water you can see very distorted reflections so that onlookers have a curious compulsion to look at the images’ originator. Along the edges of the narrow lagoon that runs through the city are boats that are lined up covered waiting for their owners to come and claim them. In the morning the heat is tolerable almost comfortable and has not yet reached the stifling heat that it does in the afternoon (it got up to 105°F that day). Being on the Adriatic Sea Venice has thick air weighed down with water. The air carried the smell of the salty, fishy seawater that surrounded the city in combination with the smell of old bricks. It was surprisingly pleasant.

The locals are fascinating to watch because they have two completely different personalities. On the sidewalks around town they dress in typical Italian fashion – long linen pants for the men and loose fitting cotton dresses for the women everyone looking like they walked off the runway. They are very quiet not even their feet make noise and they walk quickly and knowingly through the winding streets. They have serious, uninterested expressions. In the water is where the Venetians come alive. They dress in lighter boating clothing that you would see on any American boater. Their faces were less guarded – they were smiling and having fun. When the locals passed each other they would yell across boats to talk to each other. Though I do not speak Italian I could tell that they were greeting each other like they’ve known each other their whole lives (which they probably have) and catching up on the latest news of family members and friends.

Around 9 in the morning, two locals one on the sidewalk and one on his boat in the lagoon were having an animated conversation. They were friends catching up on the gossip of some event that had occurred between a few of their other friends. They had previously made plans to get together later that night and were finalizing the plans – discussing location and who else was coming. Then they excused each other with a greeting I can only assume was “See you soon.” It was very similar to a conversation that two Americans might have if they bumped into each other while running errands at Kroger’s.

While in Venice I had the opportunity to watch a World Cup game, Ghana vs. Uruguay, with some locals at a bar called Orange. During some of the slower parts of the game, I started to people watch. At first it seemed like I was at an American sports bar watching a game – the teenagers were sitting around a table girls on one side boys on the other with that awkward teenagers in love feeling, there were older men sitting alone most likely because their wife made them go to the bar to watch the game, and they go nuts when something exciting happens yelling at the screen. As a soccer fan I was thrilled that a crowed could get that excited at a game. After taking a closer look I could really notice the differences. It seems like everyone smokes in Italy and if they don’t they are so used to it that they ignore the odor. In America a non-smoker would loudly complain about a smoker coughing and causing a big fuss. Their clothing is much more conservative than it is in America and they dress so much better – though we were watching a game I did not see a single t-shirt. It looks so effortless for them – there was no fussing over their clothing and everyone looked completely comfortable. Americans are constantly pulling on their clothes, shifting around, and worrying if they wore the right thing. There are no wings, beer, and chips at this bar. They usually have one drink that they drink slowly throughout the game. The servers are terrible compared to American standards. They don’t have to be there to help you for your every need, they don’t come unless called, and they have no problem letting you know when you do something that they don’t like. On the plus side you aren’t supposed to tip as much either. This is something that I will definitely be doing again.

Ciao Firenze!

I’ve been in Florence for less than 48 hours and I’m already in love with it. It is absolutely incredible here and it’s so hard to describe. The history, architecture, and art are everywhere you turn. Every building is old; everything is old. There is art everywhere and every building has a story. It is so fascinating. I’m trying to absorb it all at once and it’s like a sensory overload. I’m trying to pick up Italian phrases, but for some reason I keep speaking Spanish (maybe that last concussion did damage my brain…) and take in all of the history at the same time. Then there is just the beauty of the city. Old buildings even if they are just some little hole in the wall selling cheap souvenirs to American tourists are so pretty. The post office has a stained glass ceiling and marble pillars. Everywhere you turn there are statues or plaques of famous events.

Eccentric. There really isn’t a better word for this city. On top of the history that you typically think of in Florence there is modern day culture everywhere. Walking down the street you can hear opera on one street corner then Muse playing on the next. The shopping district with Fendi and Louis Vuitton is right next to the Piazza della Repubblica. The windows, doors, and statues are huge, but the rooms, streets, and sidewalks are tiny.

Florence has so much incredible history, but I don’t feel like that is as revered as it is in America. In the US historic buildings are practically guarded. I know there aren’t as many in the US as there are here, but it’s very strange to walk down the street and see graffiti all over ancient buildings and its not just in the alleys or in the bad parts of town like it is in the US. It’s everywhere! I’ve even seen it on the front of stores in the middle of town. I just found it really odd. Don’t get me wrong some of it is very cool and artistic, but when I see Darth Vader’s head on pillars heading to the Ponte Vecchio it sort of loses its appeal. I’m surprised that the city lets that happen. I can see letting that slide on trashcans and alleyways, but not on storefronts and historic tourist attractions.