Florence Florence Florence
I was not alone in Florence. There was this best friend of mine and at least 672 American girls to give me company. Again, the Firenze experience was mighty different. I spent a lot of time talking, drinking, laughing and introspecting with somebody I am extremely close to. We met in Dubai, have chilled in Mumbai, have watched an Arsenal game together in London and have now partied in Florence. A friendship as global as that is rare.
Florence was almost this fancy, historic background, full of statues of naked men. Yes, these statues are beautiful, but there is only a certain dosage of penises one can take. But, this abundance of nakedness explains the abundance of girls. It is mind-numbing how precise these monuments are though. They are real, grand and symbolic. I also saw the Diome and the age-old bridge. The dry nature of the previous sentence kind of sums up the “sightseeing” I did here. I wish I could have dived more into the history Florence had to offer, but this part of the trip was less about seeing and more about reconnecting. I’ll be back here to really soak in the culture.
I have never been more annoyed at hearing the American accent than when I was in Florence. I am not in America and therefore, I don’t want to hear the God-damned American accent.
Florence is full of expatriates and full of camera-carrying, map-reading tourists. It’s like Dubai in a sense, but the “local” culture is defined by the shenanigans of the expats. In that sense, I was with an expat and did what him and his expat student-friends do. We drank, “played” football, drank, chilled in “Piazzas,” drank, partied, drank, watched Italy beat England, celebrated Italy beating England with the Italians, ate Kebabs, drank, ate Pizza, drank and drank a little more. I have no idea where we lived and this is the one city I never used a map in. In my defence, I was with college students and a ridiculously close friend. There is nothing like living like a local in the least likely of places.
I feel that the most important part of this little trip was the conversations I had. Traveling, to a decent extent, is about finding yourself. And it’s through conversations with people you know and you don’t know that you gauge who you are and where you want to be. Corny as all this sounds, it’s extremely earth-shaking and rewardingly refreshing.
On to Rome and the history it has to offer.
P.S. Local beer = I don’t know = blur.