Crossing Bridges. A Solo Diary

By Allison Earley | Photography for Non-Art Majors Class | Article photo: A glimpse of one of the many side canals in the city

Venice canals perspectives

There are 391 bridges in the city of Venice. They crisscross over the waters of the canals, some arching elegantly high above the water, others only a few squat feet across. The web of bridges spins all across the tiny islands of the city, caught in the masterpiece of architecture, weaving a labyrinthine path to trap tourists in the fantastical and unforgettable sights, sounds, smells, and tastes, of historic Italy.

Studying abroad was my first time out of the country alone, and though it was a big change, I found myself in love with Italy.

Being able to spend my last semester of being an undergraduate in Florence with Florida State was more than I had ever hoped. Our brilliant professors were all eager to show us the opportunities Florence had to offer – from exploring the sprawling Mercato in Food and Culture, to seeing iconic works of art in Art History, and even getting hands on experience in historic crafts from laboratories of the masters in Craftsmanship & Design. Meeting new people, forming new connections, and exploring a new city and culture was not something I had ever thought I’d actually get to experience it really felt like a dream come true.

Only a short train ride away from Florence, the home base of the FSU study abroad program and where I was going to be staying for the next few months, Venice was where I decided to take my first trip of the semester.

As a senior in my very last months of being an undergraduate, I was keen to see the sights, and I didn’t mind flying solo to do it.

The streets of Venice were sparse, the off-season and cold weather a good excuse for any tourist to forego the city. For me, however, this meant an opportunity to get well and truly lost in the tight alleyways and lonely backstreets of the city (and I mean that literally – I have an awful sense of direction). But directional mishaps or not, it was an utterly beautiful place the likes of which I had never been to before, and the stunning architecture and ethereal feeling of the floating city had me in love from the moment I stepped out of the train station. It felt like something of a milestone – I had gone places on my own before in America, but there was certainly a difference when it came to being an ocean away from any familiar culture.

Venice was a labyrinth, but I didn’t mind finding my own way along the quiet neighborhoods, or stopping to watch a taxi or a ferry go by on the Grand Canal. Every tiny, twisting crack in the wall could open up to an entirely different view, hiding beautiful and family-owned shops, cafes, and eateries. In the empty restaurant tucked into a side street where I stopped for dinner, my waiter sat with me and (tried) to bridge the gap in my Italian skills, and offered me the homemade sorbetto. Before leaving, he told me earnestly,

Come back in four months, and we will have a conversation in Italian.

It was an incredibly memorable and personal experience, something I’ll surely remember even years down the line.

With graduation looming and the growing expectation to get a job and start “real life” just beyond the semester, the experience somehow soothed my worries, offering instead a glimpse at the joys the transition to adulthood could really bring. Instead of the gnawing pit of anxiety I had expected, I felt a breathless exhilaration, excitement for things to come in my life. This wasn’t a plunging cliffside ready to throw me to the waves of adulthood, but a graceful, arching threshold, urging me to step forward.

Transitioning from being a student to a “real” adult was something I had been fretting over for years, but as I crossed those magnificent bridges of Venice – and of Florence, Rome, London, and many other cities – I felt like each one was bringing me closer to the beginning of something really wonderful. There are certainly words to describe the experience of studying abroad – enlightening, inspiring, unforgettable – words that have all been said before. As my last academic semester, I couldn’t have asked for anything better, and though it was bittersweet to know I would be leaving the new friends and professors behind, I felt confident knowing this push into independence would stick with me forever.