I wrote about my time in Rome in June. I reread that frequently, trying to finally be alright about it being over. I don’t think I ever really will. It will fade out, as all time periods do, but I doubt I’ll ever lose my excitement or fondness for it. Talking, thinking and writing about it has become cathartic for me. I have gotten the “what was your favorite thing about it” question a number of times and usually give the stock answer of “everything was amazing. I really liked every place I went” and leave it at that. What I really want to do, however, is start jabbering about every detail, every tiny part that you had to see to believe. The truth is, I did go to a lot of places that most people never have a chance to see but that alone brings no enjoyment or love. The love is in the details…

The #8 tram from my apartment to Largo Argentina. Being packed in like sardines. Working on the previous night’s Italian homework while being serenaded by three-piece accordion acts. The little gypsy boy and his mother pushing me aside when I wouldn’t give them money. Abrubtly stopping on the bridge, causing half the tram car to fall over onto each other. Possibly the most vile smelling form of public transportation I’ve ever taken, I would give up everything I own just to ride the tram one more time.

My walk across the city at 3 am, alone. No one else was out in all of Rome. Every monument was lit up. I shouldn’t have done it, but couldn’t be happier I did.

Looking for lunch in between classes. There was never an unexciting side street or tiny sandwich shop. They all seemed to be in their own little world, immune from the hustle and bustle just a few feet away.

The sound of Dr. Paul Gwynne’s voice while lecturing to the class about the minute aspects of a certain fresco or shape of the church we were in. The look he would give me when I was forced to give him a stupid answer to a question. The man could make anything and everything sound interesting, and he did. I’ve never been more willing to go to class and pay attention.

The bald head of the giant bouncer who refused to let me enter Gilda night club. Thanks dude. The gelato shop I found after being rejected from the club.

The smell of Emanuele, the street I walked down every day to get from the tram to school. Passing tabacchis and little food huts, each day brought new faces and new scooters to dodge. The near crashes between angry bus drivers and crazy Italian drivers. The obnoxious wailing of those European ambulances.

The vitriol in the stands at the AS Roma game. The pandemonium after a GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL.

The look on everyone’s faces when we were dropped off in the alley behind our apartment. “Here’s your apartment, have fun!” Dog feces and graffiti scattered everywhere. The weight of the girls’ suitcases. Giving our landlord money for internet access. Him immediately buying cigarettes with said money. The skeleton key that unlocked our front door.

The unorthodox and illogical ways of Italian life. At first we resisted. It was frustrating and made no sense. But we soon learned that it’s what makes Italy truly beautiful. Slow down and enjoy yourself.

The way the sun would set over the Tiber River. There’s just something about it…

There’s something about Rome I can’t explain. It has this feeling, a certain amount of organized chaos that all of a sudden stops and becomes peaceful. Serene, peaceful, and quiet. My entire experience can be summed up in the same way. The perfect people, the perfect place, the perfect time. I’ll never be able to do it again, but wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.

Roma, un giorno ci incontreremo di nuovo.

Too often I focus on the finish line, when in reality it only marks the end. If I’ve learned anything from all of this, it’s that the most valuable thing one can have is the experience, not the outcome. That may seem like an obvious concept to many, but for me, it’s a constant struggle. I am torn between a childhood which I’ve loved and want to perpetuate and an adult life that is all too scary and exciting. I struggled with it during my senior year of high school and have never stopped. I find an end I want but don’t understand how to get there, other than hoping and wishing. I came abroad to see the world, yes, but also to challenge that missing link in my brain, the one preventing me from having success in my life’s choosings. I knew I would grow up during my time here, I just didn’t realize how.

Upon arrival in Rome, I realized this would be about as uncommon of an experience as any. Here was a city that, despite having 2700 years under it’s belt, could barely turn the cogs of daily life. Things don’t work as one might expect. American expectations and obligations are not present. Although it forced me to see how things outside of our bubble of a world work, it was very unsettling. At first, I mistook the general unfriendliness of Rome personally, as if the Roman people were spitting in my face. Gradually, I realized that I would probably act the same way if I lived in an environment like this.

That’s not to say Rome is a bad place; it’s quite the contrary. It’s hard to describe what it feels like to walk through a vibrant space knowing entire eras of art, commerce, religion, government – human life – have come and gone in the very same spot. After all, there is more history in the 50th most significant church in Rome than there is in the grandest in the US. In that sense, from simple churches on side streets to behemoths like St. Peters’, there is nothing unexciting. Whether it be social, historical, or simply getting lost, every day brought a new adventure. By the time the final week rolled around, I had grown to love Rome. Despite it’s flaws, it’s a beautiful place in many different ways.

During my many trips throughout Europe, the people around me threw around hyperbole like there was no tomorrow. Seeing as we had the experience of a lifetime, it’s hard to blame them. But I realized early on that when you start to compare and contrast, you lose the importance of what you are seeing in front of you. There was no “best place” I visited or “best night” I had with my friends. Every single one was memorable in it’s own right.

More significant than any trip or activity, the most important thing I’ve done during my time here is open myself to the people around me. Going into this experience, I was anxious to meet thirty people and expand my social circle. I’m a very shy person and am as self-conscious as they come, making that a difficult task. Early on, I could sense my anxiety was all for nothing. I’ve never made quicker friends or felt so close to people in such a short amount of time. I’m convinced that with this group, we could have been living in the middle of nowhere and still had the time of our lives. It would be impossible for someone outside of the experience to understand this, but I genuinely love these people. I love these people as if I’ve known them since I was three. Not until I realized that did I wish it could last forever.

And it can’t, of course. Life doesn’t really work that way. Things end. New things start. You can only be in limbo for so long. At a certain point you stop hoping to be grown up and you start being it.

My experience in Rome has ended, just as my time in college will soon. My childhood will end the day I receive my diploma, becoming a set of memories for me to look back on and reminisce. I’m scared. Before this semester, I didn’t have the self confidence to believe that I could overcome that fear. Now, I do.

Days spent in Europe: 124

Countries visited: 7

Number of times yelled at by our neighbors for being too loud: 47

Tragic accidents involving my face and the Swiss Alps: 1

Loch Ness monsters spotted: 0

Attempts at finding/entering the “bone church” in Rome: 10

Successful attempts at finding/entering the “bone church” in Rome: 0

Number of times we discussed “life”: 124 (every single day)

Number of times my head exploded in a European airport: 2

Food-poisoning-inducing kebabs eaten: 1

Planes taken: 13

Miles traveled: 23,014 (exactly!)

Number of times my shirt was ripped off in a public setting: 2

Days of snow in the Umbria region of Italy in the past 20 years: 1 (the day we visited a vineyard)

Renditions of “Party In The USA”: 1

Insults by Dr. Paul Gwynne directed at me: 16

Roman clubs rejected from: 3

Times my wallet was stolen: 0

Nights roofied at Sloppy Sam’s: 2

Number of times our Italian teacher was tackled by Katie Stevens: 1

Leather jacket in Florence: €160

Amount of money EasyJet owes me: $400

Cost: an arm and a leg

Making great friends, seeing the world, and having the time of my life: Priceless.

According to Lonely Planet, the French Riviera is the “playground for the rich and beautiful”.  Seeing as I am neither of these things, I was a bit hesitant to spend 4 days there. Never-the-less, after my school program ended, myself and 7 friends travelled to Nice to take in the sites and sounds of the coast. Our first day brought us to Cannes for the Cannes Film Festival. As a lover of movies, I was very excited to see the most prestigious film festival in the world. Although there were no stars present during the day, it was nice to see the Red Carpet and all of the busyness that surrounds it. I also stumbled upon the water Red Carpet: a dock which ushers stars from their boats to the festival. This is present during a scene in Entourage in which Vince and the boys arrive to a premiere on their yacht. It was interesting to see it up close and in person.

The following day, we trekked north to Monaco for the Monaco Grand Prix Formula One race. Monaco, one of the smallest countries in the world, has one of the highest per capita GDPs, meaning it is a very wealthy place. I quickly saw how. All the streets are nicely built and very well maintained. It seemed that every car was either a Ferrari or a Bentley. Because of the race, much of the city was blocked off. We didn’t have tickets, so we did our best to see bits and pieces of it, eventually deciding to watch the finish in a nearby cafe. Afterward, we walked down to the track and marina to see the yachts. The girls were invited on the yacht of the winning team (Team Red Bull). Surprisingly, us guys were not. Instead, we walked throughout the city and found Casino Monte Carlo. Portrayed as Casino Royale in the James Bond movie, the casino is very high end and quite a cool building, much like the rest of Monaco.

The final two days of my trip were spent on beaches. The first, Juan Les Pins, is a small town near Antibes that is considered by many to have the best beaches in all of France. We relaxed and layed in the sun all day long. The following day was spent on a beach in Nice. Nice is entirely made up of rock beaches, so renting a nice chair and umbrella was necessary but enjoyable. With some cocktails and good company with Jen, Katie and Robert, it was a nice way to end my trip to France and my last trip in Europe.

Despite a “minor” travel snafu (and by minor I mean one that cost me an entire day, headaches and hundreds of dollars), we made it back to Rome safe and sound. I thoroughly enjoyed my time in the South of France and would love to come back. Next time, however, I hope to have a lot more money in my wallet. My own yacht wouldn’t hurt, either.

I am not an outdoorsman. Let’s make that clear. I enjoy sleeping in a warm bed and taking a hot shower about as much as anything. That said, I do enjoy the occasional hike or “nature experience”. Cinque Terre, meaning five lands, sits on the northwestern coast of Italy, an area known as the Italian Riviera. It consists of five hill towns (Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza and Monterosso al Mare) all within hiking distance of one another. The trail goes right along the coast, occasionally turning up into the mountains. Although it’s not the easiest of hikes, it’s just easy enough to enjoy the views without having to strain yourself. After an evening train, my group arrived in Riomaggiore, the first town. Despite some trouble finding our hostel (the town all but shuts down after dark), we hopped into bed, in hopes of having a fully charged battery for the hike the following day. After an early wakeup and the closest thing to an American breakfast I’ve had in months, we were off. Although the round trip train ticket was a bit pricey, I was surprised at how cheap the area was; the cost to hike the entire trail was only €5.

The second town, Manarola, is the most picturesque. Every one of the towns was beautiful and each offered their own unique characteristics. We stopped at the third town, Configlia, for a beer and a snack.  The town sat at the very top of the hill, unlike the others.

The hike to the fourth town, Vernazza, was considerably longer and more strenuous. We rested by getting a nice lunch and laying at the beach. The area is known for it’s seafood, but I elected to get a local Vernazza dish called Trofie (pasta with a special pesto sauce). Every region of Italy has a unique selection of food, all of which are excellent. Cinque Terre was no different! The final town, Monterosso al Mare, is a two hour trek from Vernazza, half of which is straight up hill. After an already long day of hiking, we were all tired and relieved to see the town in the distance. It is the most resort-like of the five, with large beaches and lots of restaurants. Too spent to do much else, we sat on a rock that juts into the sea. The group had been planning this trip since the beginning of the semester in hopes that it would be a good way to wrap up our time together. We were not dissapointed.