Waking Up in Florence

The buzzing of my alarm wakes me at 8 AM sharp. As my eyes flutter open, it takes me a minute to realize where I am. I’m staring at a glistening tile floor, a vase of pale pink flowers, and books stacked up tall on a little white desk; It’s all very unfamiliar to me right now. After a few minutes, I take a deep breath, and finally slide out of bed. It’s time to start my first full day in Florence.

The temperature has reached nearly 84 degrees Fahrenheit by 9 AM. My roommate Kelsie and I walk down the front steps of our flat into the beating sun. Our neighborhood is already bustling around us. We exchange looks of both nervousness and excitement as we begin our journey through the city.

I become mesmerized by what I am beginning to experience. On every street I turn, I’m bound to face large wooden doors that stand 15 or 16 feet tall, each adorned with beautiful gold knockers or rustic bells. Intricate works of iron are crocheted over nearly every window. I glance upwards, and notice the familiar green, white, and red flag blowing gently in the air. I see patios and terraces that are overflowing with bright red and white flowers, with women leaning over the rails of them to shake out dusty rugs. The windows above are decorated with painted shutters, typically green, brown, or pale blue. Down below, shop keepers are sweeping the entrances to newly opened stores. We pass windows filled with sparkling jewelry, leather goods, and extravagant dessert displays. 

By 2 PM, it’s nearly 96 degrees in the city center. I have already determined it is rather easy to distinguish the types of people surrounding me. Locals can be found fashionably strutting the streets, most often in heeled shoes, floral patterns, button down shirts, and sun hats. Tourists are usually fanning their faces with limp maps, commonly dressed in neon gym shoes and carrying overstuffed backpacks or cameras. We walk more, now passing restaurants. We hear the soft clank of forks against pasta bowls and the murmurs of Italian conversation. The air is filled with aromas of cigarette smoke, freshly baked bread, and floral perfumes. Despite the heat, I smile to myself and watch the world move around me.

As the sun sets over the Arno (pictured below), the city has become much quieter. Neon bar signs illuminate many of the windows we pass. Their reflection can be seen off of the stone pavement, worn smooth from everyone’s footsteps. Street lamps give off a soft yellow glow as I hear wine glasses clinking in the distance. After a quick gelato stop, we are headed back home for the evening. Upon arrival to our apartment, my roommate fishes her keys from her purse and unlocks the door. Before stepping inside, I take a look behind me and smile, realizing I’ve already fallen in love with Florence. I can’t wait to wake up and do it all again tomorrow.

This post was written by Hannah Marie Zaininger, a senior at Purdue University. She is studying Health Sciences with a concentration in Occupational Therapy, as well as a minor in Psychology and Human Development and Family Studies. She aspires to work in rehabilitation for people with developmental disabilities.