Italy in the fall of 1986. Florence. Getting off of the train at the Florence Santa Maria Novella (SMN) Train Station in the center of Florence I put my bags down for a moment and wondered what to do. It was my way. To travel without a plan, deciding to travel without a guidebook. To discover places as if I was the first person who had ever stepped foot there. To look at places with my own eyes and not that of others. I had always wanted to visit Florence, but now that I was there I couldn’t for the life of my remember why. Art History had slipped away and in the moment I was standing in the middle of train station wondering what to do.
I picked up my bag and walked out the door, took a right and headed the few blocks up the street to the center of town.
And then I saw it. A sliver at first. Between the the buildings. The red dome that sat on the top of Il Duomo, Brunelleschi’s Dome.
It was a sight to behold and it made my knees buckle a little.
And then I remembered why I had come to Florence …
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