“It is fate that I am here,' George persisted, 'but you can call it Italy if it makes you less unhappy.”

So I'm really embarrassing. How embarrassing? I had been rereading quotes from Room with a View by E.M. Forster as I prepared (emotionally? physically? definitely embarrassingly) for my trip to Firenze.

If you are reading this and know positively nothing about the previously mentioned novel, you have two options: 1) Kill yourself or 2) Go find it and read it this moment! 3) Go watch the movie with Helen Bonham Carter. It's AMAZING. The film makes you want to escape immediately to the Italian countryside. The music is stunning. I am listening to it right now like a big big big sap the size of Texas.

I've decided Room with a View is exactly what I should be reading right now. It's about Victorian English people visiting Italy and what enfolds as their lives interact. It's very clever, funny and just... true. If you have read it before, you will understand.


One of the reasons I love Room with a View is the heroine.  Lucy thinks she needs some adventure but at the same time has a very organized (see "English") view of the world. Of course, she is very naive and is constantly shaken by what happens to her in her travels. What strikes you is that she is at the same time a very strong minded girl, not in the least cold, with a passion for Beethoven. She isn't your typical "impressionable young maiden" but a thoughtful, spirited girl who is expanding her understanding of the world day by day.

So I identify with Lucy very much. I did not realize how naive I was until a week or two ago. What a shocking revelation! I'm twenty two years old, I have my college degree, I've watched cable, traveled to different countries, read many books... and I am far more naive than I thought.

My main problem is I expect everyone to be a good person. Mature, friendly, appropriate, honest, trustworthy... Which is funny because I feel like I'm generally far more critical back home. It's probably because I really want to befriend everyone here so I'm not in my room crying and eating jars of Nutella.

I'm really dumb. Welcome to the real world, Louisa. Obviously, I didn't give my passport or wallet to a man on the streets of Napoli with a gold teeth. It's the subtle social things I miss. Suzanne likes to laugh at me but seriously scolds me, "Louisa, you have to stop being nice to people." I collect crazy people very easily because I assume everyone has boundaries... NOPE. They don't. Yay...

I'm sure any of you who know me well are laughing. "Louisa? Too nice to people? Bullshit." It's true, folks. It's a problem.

Back to Firenzzzzeeee, it was the first city I got lost in. The first city in which I went to no museums or exhibits. I went to the Duomo, ate THE BEST GELATO I'VE EVER HAD, and wandered around. Apparently, you have to pay to go to Santa Croce. I had no cash but I decided hey, next time!

I thought I'd hate Firenze... but I didn't at all. I think I've become a city girl. I walked for hours and hours each day we were there. I finally found face wash (!!!!).  People told me they hated how touristy it was and how everyone spoke English to them. Almost everyone spoke Italian with me and it was by far less touristy than Roma.

But holy smokes, Florentine men are bold. A crazy man on the street told me, "Ciao. I love you." Our waiter was suppperr flirty (naive Louisa only noticed after Suzanne pointed it out. "Duh.")

The best story I have, however, was when I was waiting for someone to buzz me into the hostel. It was still light out and I had been walking around for hours. I was returning from my personal adventure where I found the best extra dark chocolate gelato in the world which I ate leaning against a bridge over the river as the sun was that lovely orange color. It was soul reviving. (Very Room with a View!) I felt relaxed and happy. I wasn't even annoyed waiting to get into the hostel. I was standing and waiting for a few minutes when a group of people pass by.... I hear someone say "Do you need something?" in Italian. Finally, I realize this voice is talking to me. I turn to my left and who do I behold but

The most beautiful man I've ever seen.

No joke. So imagine this conversation in Italian.

"Ciao, want to get a drink?", winked the most beautiful Italian alive.

"Uhhhhhh", I stuttered like the mature, well-educated woman I am, "Sorry, I can't (insert here an awkward laugh because I am so uncool)... I have a boyfriend." (New instant response to all Italian men.)

"Oh, ok... want to go get a Coca Cola ;)," innocently suggested the most beautiful Italian alive.

"(Awkward laugh) No, sorrrrryy, I can't," I responded, great amused by his innocent offering of a soda.

"Ah.... ok, see you later ;)."

Oh, Firenze.