What’s the best part about going to Europe for 30+ days? Coming home.
No, it’s not that I didn’t enjoy my trip. I f**king loved it. Florence and Paris were my favorite cities. I think I spent a week in Florence and I could go back to spend another week eating all those amazing Steaks Florentine and all that phenomenal gelato.
As for Paris, I only spent a couple of days there but I’d love to go back for a month. That city has an energy, something like New York. And the women… oh God the women are… yeah, I think I’m gonna marry one… if I ever get married (but that’s another discussion).
Cinque Terre was beautiful in a way I can’t describe. Here’s the best I can do: the water, it’s so blue and clear that you can see the bottom of the sea floor 20 feet below. Yeah, I know, that doesn’t do it justice.
Rome was okay. There was one magical meal at a farmer’s market I stumbled into but otherwise I really wasn’t feeling it. The same goes for Milan. I was bummed that I didn’t get to see the Guggenheim but otherwise I’m not going back to Venice until I have a serious girlfriend or a fiance or a wife.
Prague, that’s the one that got away. I stayed on the Avenida Revolucion of Prague and it sucked. I’d love to go back but 1) I’d like to go with someone that’s been there before and 2) I want to stay somewhere quieter, nicer.
Obviously I loved Europe. I want to go back. I want to travel more; I think Asia should be next, maybe back to South America. So why was coming home the best part? Because going away for so long gave me a clarity, a perspective I’d lost about my life. I can see the bulls**t for what it is. And I’m tried of dealing with bulls**t.
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