F L O R E N C E
I TA LY
H O M E F L O R E N C E ,
I T A L Y
L A N G U A G E :
I T A L I A N
C U R R E N C Y :
E U R O
T R A N S P O R T A T I O N ;
P L A N E ,
A C C O M M O D A T I O N :
C E N T E R - C I T Y
F O O D :
T R A I N ,
L A M P R E D O T T O
B U S
F L A T
“In I t a l y , they add
work
and
life on to
food
and
wine.”
– Robin Leach
D A Y
9
P I A Z Z A
D E L
D U O M O
2
F L O R E N C E
ON OUR FIRST day in Florence, Kylie, Megan and I
walked to the main office of our school and retrieved the key for our apartment. After walking the Google maps
route to the address we were given, we found ourselves
in Piazza del Duomo, home to the famous Santa Maria del
Fiore Cathedral. This was one of the churches that we had studied and seen in art history textbooks and it seemed impossible that we would be living right next door.
As we hiked up five flights of stairs, we fully doubted
that our keys would work and figured we must be in the wrong place, but to our surprise, the lock opened and we speechlessly entered our flat.
It felt like we had stepped into a movie. The floors were tiled in red-orange and white walls
with tall ceilings enclosed the rooms. The ceilings were painted with patterns and figures in Renaissance style and four large windows framed views of the Duomo.
For a good ten minutes none of us could say a word. The flat was perfect. From then on, we decided that if we
ever had a bad day, we would just look out the window at the cathedral and know how lucky we were.
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L U C C A
I TA LY
D AY L U C C A ,
1 3 I T A L Y
L A N G U A G E :
I T A L I A N
C U R R E N C Y :
E U R O
T R A N S P O R T A T I O N ;
T R A I N
F O O D :
P I Z Z A
S A T U R D A Y ,
F E B R U A R Y
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D A Y
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THE HISTORICAL TUSCAN town of Lucca dates back to
the Roman times when a wall was built around the city for military protection. Throughout the centuries, the wall
was expanded and updated for greater defense; however, enemies never tested its structure.
Today, the wall still stands and a pedestrian trail spans the length of its top ridge. Runners and bikers enjoy the trail for exercise, teenagers
find escapes from parental watch, and tourists soak in the views of the city and its surrounding area.
Inside Lucca’s winding streets stand many brightly colored churches, homes, shops and restaurants. Piazza Anfiteatro is an oval-shaped forum that sits in the heart of the city.
The piazza was formerly a Roman amphitheater where up to
10,000 people could gather to watch games or participate in public meetings.
Lucca’s small-town friendliness is defined by the relaxing
nature of families and friends as they gather on weekends at local art shows and book fairs.
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P I A Z Z A
D A Y
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D E
A N F I T E A T R O
Piazza de Anfiteatro is an oval-shaped courtyard that serves as a gathering place for locals and visitors of Lucca. Restaurants and shops line the first floors and residences stack on top of them.
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L I G U R I A
I TA LY
D AY S L I G U R I A ,
2 7 - 2 8 I T A L Y
L A N G U A G E :
I T A L I A N
C U R R E N C Y :
E U R O
T R A N S P O R T A T I O N ;
T R A I N
A C C O M M O D A T I O N :
H O T E L
F O O D :
M I G N O N
F O C A C C I A
P O S T A
B R E A D
Twenty years
from now you will be more
disappointed by the things that you d i d n than the ones you d i d d o .
’t do
So throw off the b o w l i n e s , s a i l a w a y from the safe harbor,
c a t c h the trade winds in your sails. Explore.
Dream.
Discover. – Anonymous
T E R R E C I N Q U E D A Y
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ONE FRIDAY NIGHT in February, we planned a route to
the coastal region of Liguria, Italy. I had been here before
with National Geographic and generally knew where to go.
On Saturday morning, we left for the Cinque Terre, a group of five quaint towns along the bluffs of the sea, without
knowing whether or not we would come back that night. We
went with one thought in mind – to experience the culture of the seaside towns.
When we arrived in Corniglia – the middle of the five towns – we found it deserted except for one small café serving
pizzas and paninis. This was off-season for the picturesque
towns, which thrive on summer tourists, and only a handful
of people were out exploring or tending to the terrace farms. After a quick meal of focaccia sandwiches, we hiked up
the cliffs, through olive groves and vineyards to the next
brightly colored village, called Vernazza. We knocked on the doors of a few tiny hotels to inquire about a bed to sleep in for the night, but due to the winter season, we found that none were open. As a solution to our lack of planning, we
decided to eat gelato and watch the sun set over the water.
We were engulfed by the vast blue Mediterranean in front of us, and embraced by the sleepy little town hanging from the cliffs behind us.
Although we could have stayed there, hypnotized by the
water forever, we eventually decided to move on and find a place to stay for the night. We caught a train to a town farther up the coast to the north, called Rapallo.
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R A P A L L O RAPALLO IS A small city that boomed on tourism from its seaside resorts in the 1950s and 60s. Today, outdated yet
still classy restaurants stretch the length of the harbor. The seafood is served fresh and delicious, straight off the boats that are moored there.
Rapallo sits between tall rolling hills and a horseshoe
shaped bay. Charming old couples who take up benches
by the sea set the pace for the city’s character, and a flea
market by the beach invites families and children to shop for antique goods and used toys. Both the women and men seem to have an unspoken competition for the most stylish winter coats, as everyone, it seems, makes a fashion statement.
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S A N T A
M A R G H E R I T A
L I G U R E
AFTER A COUPLE hours of exploring in Rapallo, we decided to catch the 1 minute and 30 second train ride to the next
town, Santa Margherita Ligure. Upon arrival, we noticed a
large white tent, from which loud music was playing, set up in the center of the town. It was ready for a festival, but no one had yet shown up for the party.
We continued to walk around Santa Margherita Ligure
and admired the cheerful looking sail and fishing boats
lingering in the harbor. We reached the end of the line of boats and planted ourselves on a dock to once again be enthralled by the waves.
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C A R N E VA L E ONCE WE WERE too chilled by the sea breeze to stay by
the water any longer, we got up to find a small coffee shop
for a few minutes of warmth. When we left the shop, to our
surprise, we saw a parade, erupting with confetti, making its
way towards us. Led by a marching band of angels and devils, and followed by bikini-clad, middle-aged men and their
tropical float, the parade was in celebration of the last day of Italy’s Carnevale, which takes place in February.
Children were dressed in costumes, families followed the parade all the way to its ending, and marchers threw fistfuls of confetti as they passed. After covering the main street with so much shredded paper that the concrete was no longer visible, the parade stopped at the large white tent that we had misjudged when we
arrived. Everyone in town seemed to be participating in the celebration and they were now serving hot chocolate and
french-fries from the tent. The giddy spirit of families and friends was contagious and we are still finding confetti in our clothes and backpacks from the trip.
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S W I T Z E R L A N D
I N T E R L A K E N
D AY S I N T E R L A K E N ,
3 2 - 3 5 S W I T Z E R L A N D
L A N G U A G E :
G E R M A N
C U R R E N C Y :
C H F
T R A N S P O R T A T I O N ; A C C O M O D A T I O N : F O O D :
C H A R T E R S W I S S
B U S
Y O U T H
F O N D U E
&
H O S T E L
C H O C O L A T E
...started the day with a bowl of
BirchermĂźesli,
Wilderswil to W e n g e n to Klein Scheindegg, took a train from
took the
E i g e r n o r d w a n d lift, got lost in
Eigergletscher, and skiied the
Jungfrau.
While wandering through the neighborhoods of Interlaken, we discovered beautiful Swiss houses like this one framed between the towering mountains.
D A Y
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P I C T U R E
P E R F E C T
ON THURSDAY NIGHT Kylie, Megan and I caught an overnight bus to Interlaken, Switzerland with a large group of other students.
We arrived at the Swiss Youth Hostel around 6 a.m., took a short
nap, and started the day with a bowl of Swiss birchermüesli, fresh baked bread, and home-made jam.
Friday was our day to explore the town and surrounding area. We started down the river walkway to one of the lakes that
sandwiches the city. There is no other way to describe it than
“picture perfect.” You can Google Switzerland for hours and never believe that a place could look so beautiful, but I’ve seen for myself, the country is nothing less than flawless.
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F L A W L E S S AFTER WATCHING PARAGLIDERS gently float down from
the mountaintops; exploring the shops, green spaces, and waterways; and indulging in olive bread sandwiches, we
decided to learn the train route to the ski slopes. The hostel
had given us free train tickets and we asked the desk worker at the station which destinations we could reach with them. She spoke rough English scattered with long, complicated German names, and we somehow concluded that she was
telling us we could take any of the trains one-stop in each direction. The next one was leaving in 5 minutes.
Without double-checking our decision, we hopped on the train. The screens inside said that the next stop was 15
D A Y
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minutes away at a place called Brienz. We crossed our
fingers hoping nobody would ask to see our tickets because on second thought, we decided that they probably weren’t valid for that route.
However, spur of the moment decisions always seem to turn into great memories. The train curved along the length of the crystal clear lake
between towering mountains and ended in the less populated town of Brienz. The view over the lake and between the alps was majestic as we watched the day turn to dusk.
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D A Y
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J U N G F R A U SATURDAY WAS THE day I had been waiting for since I signed up to go to Europe. I got to ski in the Jungfrau region of the Swiss Alps. The girls and I rented skis, met up with some
friends from Kansas State University, and caught a train to the top of the mountains. The slopes led us down steep, powdery
passes, along a creek and through the trees towards the town of Grindelwald. At the bottom of the runs, people gathered in lines for the lifts, chattering in German and other languages. The skiers and snowboarders swiped lift tickets at the gates and shuffled into the chair swings that gently graced them
into the air, above the powdery snow, and left them off at the start of their next adrenaline rush.
By 5:00, the slopes turned icy and people shifted their paces to socializing at bars and restaurants on the mountain. The
local crowds seemed on top of the world as they celebrated
the completion of another seasonal weekend soaking in the rush of swerving down the chilly terrain. S A T U R D A Y ,
F E B R U A R Y
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