After being away from my precious little city for a full 10 days, my reunion with Florence was nothing less than magical.
I stepped off of the train platform Sunday night, and I walked home. Walked. Ah, there is truly no equivalent feeling to that of getting off of a train and not being stressed about finding yet another means of public transportation. This simple fact was one that I was made acutely aware of during my time in Paris and Barcelona. You cannot get anywhere in either city without either a) seriously hauling your booty across town or b) taking the metro or the bus or a car or whatever means of transportation suits you best. But Florence, on the other hand, is a perfect size. It’s dainty and adorable and overall totally manageable, and yet there is still so much that I have not yet done.
Today, I decided to take it upon myself to do a bit more exploring of this city that I am fortunate enough to currently call home. I went for a run at sunrise and the sky was just so beautiful above the Arno that I just had to stop and take a couple pictures (also… I was very, very tired and needed an excuse for a quick little pitstop). This afternoon, in between my two classes today, my friend and I walked further east than I had ventured before and found an adorable sort of stone platform. There were a couple steps leading up to it, on which people were just hanging out, reading books, talking quietly amongst themselves. We plopped ourselves down and soaked up a little sun before heading to our 2:30 class.
I didn’t really think too much before choosing Florence. When I arrived, it was just a place that I had always wanted to go. I never dreamed that I would fall in love with it as much as I have. If I struggled to leave its walls for ten days, I can’t imagine what a shock America will be come May, but, hey, I still have a solid month and a half before I have to worry about such things.