Today is the day I meet him. Friends for 5 years and we’ve never met, and yet today I am flying to a foreign country and meeting him. Worse idea I’ve ever had? Just about. Best idea I’ve ever had? Most certainly.
Once upon a time on the twelfth of January, within the messy birth of a dark and unspeakable year a young 17-year-old was browsing the internet in search for a cure for boredom.
Seriously I’m super nervous now. I’m going home right now! That shouldn’t put me on edge! I think it’s more the paranoia that I’m on the wrong bus, despite the fact that the lovely man stamped my ticket. I’m also slightly scared that my bag is going to open in the hold below, I forgot to tie the zips closed… it’ll be fine I’m sure.. if I get to Rome I’ll just have to sight see or something.
We wandered a little deeper into the centre where we hit the small Il Porcellino market, then followed the sounds of drumming and shouting. Men dressed up in medieval Italian garb marched past us, drummers banged so loud that Ladas ear merged back into her body and we had to hold her to stop her from trembling. Bless.
The stairs of death led us to a second floor, peering down on to the tiny figures below, out of breath and very tired. It was vaguely interesting but there wasn’t much to do there. Clambering back down the death stairs, which was nicer going down, we plodded along to the Cathedral.
Most newsagents in Russia and England can provide you with condoms, cigarettes and postage stamps, the perfect equation to a great night out, however it appears that they do not provide the latter of the three in Florence. Seeing our disheartened looks the man at the counter suggested, instead, to go straight to the post office, and giving us vague directions for the approximate location.
School is like a prison. Normally said by teenagers all over the world about the enclosed and suffocating environment they learn about the world in. However in Lizzys case this phrase holds some accuracy as her school was designed and built to be a prison..