15. Florence, Italy
(Actual Trip Date: September 21, 2010)
Now that one of my rants is over, I can detail the real travel blog of Firenze (Florence), Italy.
Florence isn’t really a city of many tourist attractions and great sights to be amazed by. I expected to see Michaelangelo’s David Statue but the line was ridiculously long. A couple of my other friends were able to gather up the patience and wait up the line storm. Another note to travelers, if you want to see the David and the museum, book tickets ahead of time.
There was one only one building I was impressed by and that was its Duomo Cattedrale de Santa Maria del Fiore. I think I was more impressed by the colors of light pink, green, and white than the size. We ended up buying pizza and a cannoli before sitting on its steps, basking in the warm sunshine and observing nonchalantly the pace of tourists and fellow Italian citizens strolling across.
When I think of Florence, I think of shopping. I think that was pretty much all my friends and I did. In just the first couple hours of being there, we wandered down a random and desolate alleyway and were immediately distracted by a small shop brimming with journals. Ambling in and looking around at the exorbitant prices, I shrugged and left before following my friends into another small shop. The racks were filled with dresses etched with flower patterns and warm, light colors just begging to be ruffled out into the sunshine. Running my hands into the soft fabric, a friend and I gasped, our eyes darting to a custom-made blue dress hung delicately.
Painted in a dark cerulean shade, it fell into layers sewn upwards, turning the bottom of the dress into light ruffles with the top able to turn into any shape. Now, I am not a very fashion-obsessed girl. I shop mainly at Forever21 and Macys because the dresses and outfits fit my short stature so well, and I rarely squeal over outfits unless a special occasion was coming or my mom takes me out shopping.
But this was the exception.
Bringing it into the dress room, marveling over how the dress looked completely different on my friend than from me, and some many Euros later, I was walking out with a brand new Italian-made dress.
Long market streets. Leather. Long streets of big, expensive stores. Gray purses.
That’s Firenze to me.
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