My very first time in Europe was as a student studying for a semester in Italy.
Our group landed in Rome and the following day our professors gave us a tour of this magnificent city. If I had had a guidebook, I am sure dozens and dozens of must-see monuments, sculptures, fountains, streets and churches could have been dutifully checked off on this day. We ran here, we ran there, we oohed and we ahhed…very quickly. But at the end of this day I felt oddly dissatisfied and unfulfilled. I had seen a great deal, but could recall very little of it. The sense of frenzy is what remained.

Seeking a different experience, I asked if I could forgo the second day’s group activities and was told no. Thus I feigned illness; I was “unfortunately too sick to go”. Knowing I had several hours of this new day ahead of me I wandered the streets, got lost-of course, sat at cafes sipping cappuccinos, watched the daily life pass in front of me, ate gelato and something for lunch I am sure, and revisited a few of the same sights I had seen the day before. This time I was setting the pace. I lingered, I paused, I strolled, I dallied, I absorbed the sights and sounds. Rome was emerging from the blur.