Any true Mirror fan knows that this is the last issue of the semester, A.K.A. my last abroad column, A.K.A. a sign that my time abroad is coming to a tragic end. Before I return to my position as the faithful and better (what? who said that?) co-news editor, I’ll give the details of my last adventures.
Work has been piling up since finals are coming up a little too close for comfort, but I genuinely can’t believe my professors have the audacity to harp the final weeks of my four-month vacation with actual work. Despite my approaching deadlines and finals, I boarded a 16-hour bus to my final destination: Prague because YOSO (you only study abroad once).
11/10 recommend Prague as a last trip because: a) it was beautiful and you need a strong finish, b) it had an amazing nightlife and I need to enjoy my last week of being legal c) everything is really cheap and if you did abroad right you will be running on your last silver dollar.
Between the beautiful, vibrant building and the blends of different styles of architecture, I felt like I was on a movie set of an eccentric movie.
If you were raised on The Beatles (thanks mom), the John Lennon Wall would touch your heart thinking of your parents’ favorite songs that soon became your own. I was feeling nostalgic until my eyes moved a little more to the left and I saw “Saturdays are for the Boys” aggressively graffitied on the wall. My cue to move on.
We went to the Christmas market in the center of the city which was one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. I felt like I was in a claymation from the 70s that always comes on Freeform’s 25 days of Christmas. I went wild with Christmas spirit, touching all the hand painted ornaments and smelling all the chimney cakes (literally cinnamon dough with ice cream in it).
Since the bus ride was 16 hours there and back, we only had two full days there, which was certainly not enough time for me to see all the sites. We got back to Florence around 10 p.m. and we embarked on our last walk from the train station to our apartment.
Thinking about how I’ll have to trade in my sporadic weekend travels for an actual school routine makes me nauseous; not to be dramatic or anything. I keep trying to think of ways to stay here; some of my best options are to become a spy for the U.S. to make sure all the artwork in Florence stays exactly where it is (we don’t want any wars on our watch), pretending like I actually applied to stay for a year and just squat in my apartment, pick up bartending and become the sassy server the customers love to laugh with, but also respect or splurge on an expensive olive-toned spray tan and blend in with the locals for as long as possible.
I want to personally shout out Editor-in-Chief Emeritus Jesse Erickson for warning me that once you go abroad, you’ll never recover. I’m going to miss new adventures, secret places, free-for-students bottomless wine, the FOOD and the beauty around every corner. As sad as I am to go, I’m excited to see my family, my dogs, Stags, a Poland Spring water bottle, a drying machine and a bacon, egg and cheese.
I’m leaving a little piece of me behind in Florence along with all my half-empty cosmetics that won’t make the journey home. Shout out to Swiss Air weight requirements. I don’t know when, but I’ll be back to see that little piece and visit the place that I have been lucky enough to call home for the past three and a half months.
Ciao for now! See you on the news byline.