Mia's Life

Florence, a trip I had been dreaming of since I left Rome, had finally arrived. As I stepped off the train, I was immediately greeted by familiar faces, pulling me into warm embraces. After what felt like an eternity of impatiently waiting by the train doors, I finally spotted Lynn—one of the girls I met in Rome and have stayed in touch with every day since. In mere seconds, I found myself sweeping her into a bear hug. The moment I saw all those familiar faces at the station, I knew this was going to be a great trip. It’s funny, really—most of these people I had only known for three days, but seeing them again felt like a long-awaited reunion, as if no time had passed at all.

After we arrived at the hostel, they began assigning rooms. Lynn and I had been pleading for two months to be placed in the same room, so I wasn’t worried—at least, not until I heard her name called and mine wasn’t. Without missing a beat, we quickly hatched a plan to swap her and my roommate that very night. Luckily, they were on board and wanted to. What followed was a chaotic but determined sprint between the 3rd and 1st floors, lugging oversized suitcases, until we finally pulled it off.

The hostel itself was a welcome upgrade from the one in Rome. It was spacious and well designed, with two sets of bunk beds, free shampoo and soap bars, and charging outlets at every bed. We had access to a rooftop bar, a cozy restaurant, and a game room downstairs, not to mention a sleek walk-in shower. After being deprived to only baths since August, the sight of a standing shower was tears-worthy. Our friends were all just around the corner, and we soon bonded with two girls across the hall—Ella from Australia and Ellen from Switzerland—who we’d end up spending the next few days with.

After settling in, we eagerly set out to explore the city, walking through Florence’s famous landmarks. One of the highlights was seeing Brunelleschi’s masterpieces in person, especially the dome of the cathedral. I had done a school project on him recently, so it was incredible to finally stand in front of something I had studied in detail. When we reached the Christmas markets, we were given some free time to wander. The air was filled with the wonderful scent of seasonal treats, but what really caught our attention were the freshly made churros, generously drizzled with melted chocolate. It was pure bliss. I also spotted an eggnog stand. Eggnog is my all-time favorite holiday drink, but it’s pretty much unknown here, so I was excited to try it. Unfortunately, it tasted more like a shot of rum with whipped cream. A bit of a letdown, but with so many exciting markets around, I quickly forgot about it. Shopping in Florence during Christmas is magical, with festive decorations everywhere and great deals to be found.

Back at the hostel, I grabbed my deck of playing cards and we invited ourselves into Yve’s room for a game of Slapjack. Everyone tossed out random card games, but I’ve got a hard head and was determined to convince everyone that Slapjack would be the easiest to learn. Sadly, I didn’t win a single game— everyone had lightning-fast reflexes. The hostel was loaded with security and had a strict curfew of 11 p.m., and despite our best efforts to hide under the bunk beds, the staff found us and sent us back to our rooms. Though short-lived, chill time is always my favorite part of trips— just hanging out in a laid-back environment with friends, enjoying each other’s company.

The next morning, we lost track of time while getting ready— skipping breakfast and showing up late to the meeting spot. This earned us some rather pointed glares as we made our way to the train for Pisa. The train ride was pleasant, about an hour long, and filled with our ridiculous attempts at creating nicknames for everyone: Sphinx, Dorito-bag, Gracie, and The Knocker. If we’d stayed one more day, I’m pretty sure we would’ve had a nickname for every person on the trip.

They split us into two groups, but fortunately, we got to choose who we were with, so we ended up with a group full of our friends. We were then herded into a walking tour we had zero interest in. It wasn’t a big deal, though, as we quietly unplugged our headphones and chatted amongst ourselves, sharing our own thoughts on the sights. Probably not the most respectful thing to do, but honestly, standing in front of random statues for what felt like 45 minutes while the guide pointed out every single detail wasn’t exactly captivating. Yes, we get it—the fingers on the hand are drawn to look like people. When we finally got some free time, we headed straight for the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Of course, we had to take the classic photo. Everyone was fighting over the best angles, with some of us lying on the ground to get the perfect shot while the rest of us posed in ridiculous ways. We threw out a bunch of different ideas for how to make the photos even more fun, and watching the other tourists do the same thing made it even funnier.

For lunch, we made our way to an “American” burger joint—though, calling it that might’ve been a stretch. Despite my better judgment, I ordered a brisket sandwich, which turned out to be more like a steak-filled pile of disappointment, drenched in sweet red wine BBQ sauce and topped with red cabbage. While the sandwich didn’t quite hit the mark, the fries and my passionfruit grapefruit cocktail were absolutely on point! Either way, it was a laugh-filled meal with people I already miss. And despite our stuffed bellies, we couldn’t resist grabbing gelato on our way back. I went for a combo of cookie and Nutella flavors—creamy and irresistible.

Back at the hostel, we headed upstairs to check out the rooftop bar, though it was closed. The view over the city was incredible, with a perfect view of the dome. With some time to kill, we ordered limoncello shots and spritzers downstairs— another bucket list item checked off. The drinks came with a table full of appetizers, which we happily dug into. We also met a few other travelers, including a group from Australia and a guy from England, with whom we ended up having a long conversation with, even from the top of the elevator. One of my favorite things about staying in hostels is meeting people from all over the world, outside of the exchange student circle. Dinner came next, we sat at a long table that made us feel like characters in a Harry Potter feast. Course after course kept arriving, and we had to keep politely refusing food just to make room for what was already on our plates. Afterward, a pool game broke out, with teams split between Latin Americans and everyone else. Most of us knew the rules, but actually playing was another story. It took about ten turns just to decide who was stripes and who was solids. The game wrapped up with plenty of laughs and smiles, though I’m still not sure who actually won.

We only had two nights together, and for most of us, this was the last time we’d all be together. Around 80% of the group was here for just the semester, not the full year, which meant that night, we were all thinking the same thing: break curfew. About 30 or 40 of us sneaked into one room, all chatting and sharing that unspoken thought—“It’s our last night.” It was as if time itself had slowed down just for us, and as we all huddled together, sharing glances that said more than words ever could, we all knew: It would never be like this again. We wanted to stretch it as far as we could. So we planned, we strategized. We practiced our escape routes like we were in some kind of heist movie, ready to outrun time, security, or anything that might stand in the way of us staying just a little longer in that bubble of warmth, laughter, and camaraderie. And sure enough, at 2:30 a.m., we heard those dreaded knocks on the door. In a flash, we flicked off the lights and scrambled to climb out the window, trying to keep quiet as we made our escape.

We luckily managed to avoid getting caught and rushed back to our rooms. On top of the twin-sized bunk bed, the three of us gathered, laughing and joking, until we gave ourselves a name—the PPP’s—three peas in a pod, inseparable and full of stories. We talked for hours, sharing memories, dreams, and silly thoughts, until it was 4 a.m. By then, the exhaustion was catching up, but none of us could bear to part ways. Instead of heading to our own beds, we squeezed together, huddling up in a tangle of limbs, holding each other close as if we could somehow make time stand still. We fell asleep like that, snug and warm, not caring about the morning to come.

When we finally opened our eyes to a noisy alarm clock we snoozed about 10 times, it was 6:30 a.m. — time to get ready for breakfast. We shuffled to the dining room, dragging our tired but strangely energized bodies behind us. Our bags were bursting at the seams with thrown-in clothes that we didn’t care to fold. Breakfast was a delightful spread of pastries, cakes, and sweet treats that could only be described as a sugar lover’s dream. I went for scrambled eggs and a hot chocolate, even though having hot chocolate for breakfast seems completely wrong. But hey, we were on vacation, right? Besides, I think it’s an Italian thing to sip it in the morning.

The sugar rush carried me through the day, making everything feel just a little bit more dream-like. I couldn’t speak without slipping into an Australian accent or humming a princess song. It’s impossible to be around Australians or Brits without trying to mimic their accents—not in a mocking way, but because it’s just so irresistible. And of course, it’s just as fun to listen to everyone else try their hand at an American accent or at least what they think we sound like.

In town, we were given more free time, and we knew exactly where we wanted to go: Nomination. For months, Lynn and I had been sending each other endless videos of the famous charm bracelets, imagining the day we’d finally be able to get one. And now, that moment had arrived. We picked out matching bracelets, silver and gold alternating bases, each with two charms: an “I ❤️ Firenze” and a green firefly, symbolizing our PPP nickname. So now, every time we miss each other, all we have to do is glance at our bracelets, and it’s like we’re together again. It was the perfect souvenir, something that would remind us of this trip long after we’d gone home. Nomination stores are all over the world, and many people collect charms from every country they visit. We plan to do the same, with each charm representing a new adventure.

Afterward, we made our way to a charm necklace shop I’d spotted on TikTok, eager to see if it lived up to the hype. It wasn’t exactly what I imagined. But the final stop on our list was the legendary Al Antico Vinios. I’ve been to four cities with an Al Antico Vinios, but the original in Florence definitely felt like the most authentic. I ordered one of their local specialties—salami, honey, and Roman cheese on fresh bread. It was absolutely amazing— though I truly can’t tell you which sandwich has been my favorite. They are all extraordinary, but very different from one another making them incomparable.

The hardest part of the trip came when it was time to say goodbye at the train station. I didn’t expect to see so many tearful faces, but there we were, all of us reluctant to let go. None of us realized how close we’d become when we first arrived in Rome, and now, standing there, we all knew that this was the last time we’d be together in the same place. In just a month, we’d be scattered across the world, with only a few of us left in Italy. At least now, it feels like I have friends in almost every corner of the world. I can’t help but hope that one day, we’ll all find our way back to Rome, where it all started. It’s true what SZA said: surround yourself with people who see you fully. Since being here, I’ve felt like I’ve become a better version of myself, and so much of that is thanks to the friends I’ve made. The best people you can find in life are those that make you love yourself more.

”Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.” – Shakespeare