I applied to study abroad in Italy to further my education as a chef and gain a leg up by diversifying. I applied to school in France and in Italy but, Florence University of the Arts appealed to me more. Included were courses in food science, wine and pastry on top of working in the school restaurant.
This was to be the craziest thing I have ever decided to do. I had never travelled by myself let alone planned something this monumental. Study Abroad Italy (SAI) were a great help in setting up at school and with accommodation. They were an absolute godsend.
As the course was over three months in length I organised a working Holiday Visa which, was a nightmare to get. The consulate was in on the Main Land so it was a two day travel affair. Between the Italian and English versions of the consulate website, both of which asked for completely different documents, I thought that I was completely organised. Though I had the first appointment of the day, the agent tells me that they will see me in a few hours. Okay.I come back later and start the process; I’m missing a document so I leave and go to print it.I’m back!Oh, turns out they don’t accept card payment, only cash. I leave and come back with cash. Walking back to the consulate, I break my shoe. No, no.Now I need a registered envelope to send my passport back and forth from their processing office. Grumble. None of this was on either website and I had to come to a different city to apply. As a Canadian, if your stay is less than 90 days there is no need to apply for a Visa.
Pro Tip: wear sturdy shoes, bring more documents than you think you’ll need, be patient, bring cash and prepare to make a day of getting the visa. Italians never rush anything so this is a taste of what is to come. Wait until you get your appointment to head down to the Questura. That is a story for another time.
For the first time travelling by myself, I booked the most economy ticket that I could find. I saved up for two years and wanted to spend as much as I could on adventures. Major regrets! I was in middle seats the whole way. The woman next to me would not stop stroking my thigh, no matter how many times I swatted her hand away or how many languages I said ‘no’ in. I know that, when travelling alone, your flight partners are a gamble.
Bad flight over, I had the most amazing nap in Vienna airport in one of the remarkable couch/ pods/ daybed things. It is still one of the best travel naps I have had at an airport. Napped, fed and caffeinated I hopped on the flight to Florence. The flight was wonderful. It was the first time that I had ever walked across the tarmac to get on and off a flight so I was pretty excited. I am pretty sure that I was one of those silly tourists who stop to take photos on the tarmac but hey, its Italy! I couldn’t resist. Since then, I have learned to keep my phone in my pocket until in the terminal.
In Florence, I expected a big customs crossing and check point. There was only a little contraband sniffing German Sheppard there. It was not like I had any luggage for him to sniff anyway it got lost in Vienna. After describing my bag in broken Italian and giving them my information, I headed to catch a bus into the city. Equiped with Google maps and false confidence, I crumbled the second time the bus passed Santa Maria Novella train station. I became lost in the piazzas and curving streets of Florence. In my best Italian I tried to ask for help but no one could understand me. I took to pointing at the address on my map and asking people “dov é” which is Italian for ‘where’. An older Italian woman took pity on me and helped me to the street the hostel was on.
I always thought finding street numbers was easy. They go up with the street or down with the street.
In Florence the street numbers were a collection of mismatched red and blue numbers. Red numbers meaning businesses. Blue numbers being residences. Though I did not know that at the time.
After walking up and down Via Verdi, I finally found the hostel door buzzer. I rang it, and rang it and rang it until I was ready to cry. A nice American couple in the hostel told me that the guy who manages it is never there. I put my bag in the hostel and they took a very tired, jet lagged me out to pizza in Santa Croce piazza. The couple shared their experiences travelling, staying in hostels, and mistakes they had made. They felt the same as I was now when they first left home. At least culture shock is a cross cultural universal thing.
Hostels are a nightmare. They are generally dirty and full of strangers. As a female travelling alone they don’t exactly make you feel comfortable. My first experience of travelling alone I will admit to being naive but it prepared me for the future. To all my ladies: splurge on the girls only room, read reviews of hostels left by other female travellers. Above all else trust your instincts, if something feels wrong than it is. The hostel on Via Verdi was a free for all communal place. There were only females in the room I chose and one other free bed. A male took the free bed in the room and insisted upon sleeping naked. Regardless of the complaints from others. Why you would want to sleep naked in a hostel bed is beyond me though. EW!
I checked into the Univeristy the next day where I got my student housing. Yay! I had two roommates who were adjusting to new lives in a new country too. Florence became the city of firsts for me, a gateway to a life where I would take chances and broaden my horizons. Once I was a controlled, hyper organised, never straying from the path person. I loved getting lost in a city where each turn has a new marvel. From the street art to the piazzas, churches, palazzos and secret bakeries.