Shockingly not on time and unprepared.

I know how surprising it is that I have managed to wait until 5 days into my semester abroad to start a blog. Not a month before, or even a few days before, but 5 days after. My procrastination has indeed travelled across the ocean with me.



Regardless, these last five days have been intense, confusing, exciting, scary, and of course beautiful.

The beginning is both hazy and jumbled together, the effect of quite a bit of jetlag I'm sure. Jen and I immediately found one of our roommates, Stef, at the airport in Lufthansa, and tried desperately to figure out where our apartment was in Florence, but with no luck.

Upon arriving in Firenze, the weather was gorgeous. Clear skies, and fifty five degree weather. A mere 85 degrees warmer than the place I left behind. Excitement quickly overcame our exhaustion, and adding to our troops our fourth roommate Ingrid, we hopped a taxi to our flat.

Our apartment turned out to be more of a condo, with 2 bedrooms, one with an armoir, one with a huge closet, both with exits to our terrace. Giddy laughter was the only response Jen and I could come up with. And, despite our determination to go out and explore, we fell on our beds and passed out. Effectively letting the jetlag win. (and win, and win, and win...as today is the first day I don't feel some sort of jetlag).

On Saturday before orientation, we got just a little bit lost, but without any sort of fear or anxiety, we happily stopped in a bar and chatted in broken Italian with the sweet female bartender and sipped our espresso. There are about 2 bars on every street and corner, even on the outskirts of Florence where we live, and only increase in frequency as you near the Duomo. A fact duly noted by all of us.

During a brief tour of the piazza around our school, we ate lasagna (best I've ever had) and laughed with our new classmates. We went to the Ponte Vecchio, and walked around the Duomo, and despite the gray sky and misty air, it was still beautiful.


Despite the fact that I want to write about Saturday night, I'll hold off. It seems like an entirely different story from these previous paragraphs, and for obvious reasons. The night ended at 5 am for us, and 'Sunday' started at 4pm. (See? Jetlag:1 Americans:0 )