Traveling around the country seems to be my cup of tea or my peace of mind. As I fasten my seatbelt 126.96.36.199.13.14.15 hours of travel is cake.
This trip we had a small layover in Paris, France(poor us) ha.
By small I mean a 3 hour layover. We landed I grabbed Jenni's hand and we darted for the first train we saw, keeping our fingers crossed it would be the one that took us to the Eiffel Tower. With Jenni's knowledge, and myself giving her my trust we were on our way. We made it with just enough time to snap a picture and set back to the airport. Was worth the anxiety, if I say so myself.
Last leg ahead of us, next stop would be Florence, Italy! Oh man were we excited, after that small taste of Paris.
As many scramble with anxiety and fear of flying, I find myself closing my eyes kicking back ,and surrounding my thought process with an imaginary clip of the endless adventures I hope to immerse myself in upon arrival.
My imaginary clip took toll.
I imagined pasta. loads of pasta. meatballs. rich food forcing the pounds on.
I imagined buildings that reach the sky, cobble stone roads, small arch ways making be feel like a princess of ancient times running around trying to find my prince, churches so beautiful you can only stare, Italian fashion that makes me smile, Italian men that make me smile...more, the imagination went wild.
Matter of fact my imagination was met.
One slight bummer, my suitcase decided to take an alternative route and head to Berlin, not to worry Cole and I are the same size, thank the fashion gods for smaller then normal males, or maybe just fashionable men:) I was dressed well for the two days my suitcase was vacationing.
Landing in Florence we were directed by THE Cole Westerland, to take the bus to the train station to meet up with our tour guide for the week. So we did.
|Cute tour guide, dont chya think?|
stole my heart.
Cole insisted that we have "cultural days", days in which we had to Italianize ourselves.
Cole sat Jenni and I down and made it rather clear how you can pick out an American in a crowd---
-talk obnoxiously loud, wear Northface anything, have big purses with strap
across the chest, leggings, baggy jeans, baseball caps, t-shits, backpacks, bad posture, pearl earrings, lots of University apparel, AND my favorite girls posing with their hand on the hip.
This called for a good laughing, and he was right, Americans are rather noticeable, after the American 101 lesson, it seemed like us Americans had a fat sign pasted to our forehead stating "Hey look at me, I'm American", obviousness at its finest.
I was one of them.
I am a proud American, and like any country we all have our stereotypes and ways we present ourselves.
Italians you see wear parkas, sweatpants, sneakers, and scarves as a typical everyday outfit. Italians also have a color palette of brown, blue, grey, and black. The men also have this hair thing going on thats like "hey, lets shave the sides of my head damn near bald, and keep this toupee of a style for the top of your head" SOME pulled it off, others shall wear a hat for the remainder of their existence.