Dear Florence

Florence, Italy

Dear Florence,

Roaming around your streets made me feel like I found my second home. Granted my friends and I looped around the same piazza 2-3 times before realizing we were lost, we were simply engulfed by your beauty. Hungry, we walked near a sea of chatty painters sitting on foldable wooden chairs and easels looking for a place to eat. They were old Italian men painting watercolors and talking passionately about God knows what. I don’t know Italian, so how should I know? One of them kindly pointed at a small restaurant a few meters away. Twelve euros for lunch? We were sold! For 12 euros each, we had a fresh caprese salad and an entree of choice. I had by far the best artichoke bolegnese I had ever had at that restaurant. The sausage, artichokes, tomatoes, red wine, garlic, basil, and of course, the fresh pasta-incredible!

Between the art, architecture, food, people and views, there’s one thing that I will always remember. An old carousel lit up in the middle of Piazza della Repubblica illuminating the dark street as we walked back to our hotel. For a moment, I felt like a kid again. Standing there amazed by the wooden horses going round and round, I smiled softly. I was home.

Florence, wait for me. I’ll be back. Just wait.

Always,

-K

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3 thoughts on “Dear Florence

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