Week 16: 12/9 - 12/13 — Charlotte Harrison

Final Exams and a Long Journey Home

Back home in Florence!

I had great plans for this week to try and soak up as much of Florence as I could, but I ended up having to spend a lot of my time studying for my final exams. At my ridiculous university, the tests count as 25% of my final grade, so it wasn’t the kind of thing that I could push off. On Monday, I ran out to grab a cappuccino and a snack, and then I spent the better part of the day crafting study guides for each of my tests. My exam schedule was pretty silly, too: on Wednesday and Thursday, I would have a final from 8-10 AM, and then from 5-7 PM.

Tuesday was crunch time to study for Wednesday’s exams: Mafia and History. I got myself cleaned up and changed, and then I walked over to Wild Buns to enjoy a hot latte and a croissant while I studied. It’s always pretty peaceful there on weekdays; I’m able to set up shop at one of the tables in the back and work or read for about an hour or two. It’s not really part of European culture to camp at cafes for longer than that. They view homes and libraries as places to do work, and cafes and restaurants as social, leisurely places. Sometimes, this has been annoying, but I think ultimately that Italians have healthy boundaries between their work and outside life.

Once my hourish was up, I packed my things and walked around my side of the river for a bit. I popped my head into a few shops, grabbed a coffee, and mostly just tried to get my eyes onto as much as I could, knowing that I wouldn’t be seeing it anymore in just a few days. It’s hard to think like that and try to stay present at the same time, but I know that I’m going to miss it when I’m back in America. After a bit, I headed back to the apartment to cook some dinner and continue studying. I’ve been letting my groceries dwindle down to just the essentials, so tonight, I ate a 3 euro box of prosciutto ravioli.

On Wednesday, I had the HR Management exam in the early morning. I hurriedly got ready before trudging across the river to grab a cappuccino and slip into the classroom by 8 AM. The tiny room was hot and stuffy with nervousness. Our class, typically dazed and hungover, was now buzzing as people traded study guides and compared notes. We found a few last-minute facts to memorize, and then we settled into our seats. The exam went well; beyond the general confusion that comes with taking a test someone wrote in their second language, most of the content was on the study guide.

After HR, I had the rest of the day wide open ahead of me, and the ceramics exam that evening wouldn’t be worth worrying about. So, I decided that I needed to check off an activity that I hadn’t gotten around to yet: visiting the Palazzo Vecchio. This palace, in the center of the city, was originally a Medici family property, and it is now (still!) a working government building. It’s the equivalent of our courthouses; when Florentines want to get married, they go to the Palazzo Vecchio. Can you imagine your municipal government building being an Italian palace??

The ticket was about 15 euros, which is pretty steep for a museum here (and the reason why I’ve put off visiting for the entire semester), but I dutifully bit the bullet and handed over my credit card. It was not the perfect timing: I entered the palace about 7 minutes before an enormous group of young Italian high schoolers, so every few minutes, I would hear a gaggle of 15 year olds grow closer, and I would know that it was time to move onto the next room.

Ambiance aside, the palace was stunning. I never grow tired of discovering just how much effort Italians put into their architecture and design back then. Intricately painted frescoes, carved panels and ceilings, and giant embroidered tapestries were everywhere. More than that, each detail had a meaning: there was one room where each one of the four walls was painted with a mural of the personified seasons. In another, the four elements: fire, wind, water, and earth. I could’ve spent days in there, twisting and turning to discover all of the insanely intricate details.

Once I made it through all of the family’s chambers, I perused the gift shop and then headed out for lunch. I was close to my favorite sandwich shop, so I grabbed my usual order so that I could make sure I’d have it before I leave.

In the evening, I had my Ceramics exam. It consisted of a short written reflection on our course and what we had learned. I’ll admit that as boring as some of the class sessions were, it was pretty remarkable to be able to learn so much about Italian ceramics in Italy. I also got back my final project from the kiln, and I was horrified to see what had happened: of the three pieces that I had modeled after my three family pets, my dog, Maisy, had exploded. Womp womp. I tossed her broken pieces into the trash, and pocketed the other two to take home with me.

Brelan and I were in the mood to continue taking advantage of everything while we were here, so we met up after our exams to grab dinner in the piazza by our apartment. After a few minutes of indecision, we settled on Osteria Santo Spirito, one of the better options around there. We ordered spritzes to start (Hugo for Brelan, and Aperol for me), and then we got coccoli to share. It’s odd to remind yourself that the experiences and foods you’ve grown used to will disappear in just a few days. A spritz and coccoli would’ve been just any other day for most of the semester, but tonight, it was kind of somber. We both ordered the pesto paccheri, and we enjoyed that for awhile while we reflected on the past few months. After dinner, we headed back to the apartment and got to work. I needed to start packing, and I also had to finish studying for my Mafia exam in the morning.

Another 7am wake up call, but this time for Mafia. I schlepped out of bed again, collected myself, and trudged across the river in the freezing, windy air. I grabbed a cappuccino from the cafe across the street (for the last time) and settled in to get the test done. I was thrilled with how well I had studied; I knew everything on the exam, and I got a 97.

After Mafia, I walked back to the apartment to eat some lunch and finish packing everything before wrapping up my studying for History. This would be the last, but also the hardest, exam that I would take. There was just so much information that she would cover, and the midterm had been pretty bad (I got an 89 on the midterm, which isn’t great when it’s worth so much of your grade!) Once the time started to roll around, I headed back over the river and bought a few snacks from a nearby Conad to share with Virginia while we went over our notes for the last time. I also got change from two euro bills for later. We grabbed our last empanada from Eby’s down the street, and then we shuffled into the classroom to take the exam.

Virginia and I stumbled out of the room after the exam, mentally drained. It might not have been perfect, but it was over! Now, we were off to accomplish one of the last tasks that we were dead-set on: using one of the famous Florence fotoautomaticas. We have one right by our apartment that we were planning on using, but we bumped into another right by the classroom, so we started dropping euros and planning our poses. It was the perfect last night activity in Florence!

Photo strips in hand, we set off across the river to meet up with our other roommates, Brelan, Taylor, and Raquel, at Gusta Pizza for our final meal together. It was so weird! I thought back to our first dinner together in August, when we were sweaty, tired, and bewildered. We had stupidly gone out to eat at 5:30 (everyone was side-eying us) and we picked a mediocre tourist trap and ordered wrong. Now, that felt like worlds away. We were bundled up in our puffers at 8pm and sipping on spritzes at one of our favorite neighborhood restaurants. We enjoyed our pizzas, and then we chatted about some of our favorite memories this past semester. From staying out at a club in Barcelona until 5am with Taylor, to getting on the wrong train to Pisa with Brelan and Virginia, we had plenty of funny stories to look back on.

After dinner, we walked over to our favorite neighborhood gelateria, Sbrino, for one last treat. I always get lemon and cinnamon, but shockingly, they didn’t have any lemon out! Luckily Brelan cajoled the workers, who know us pretty well, into grabbing us a scoop of lemon from the back. It was the perfect last meal! If I miss anything about Florence, it will probably be the gelato first.

When we got back to the apartment, I packed up my last couple of things and laid out my clothes for the next day. It was so weird to lay down in my twin bed and realize that I wouldn’t be in it ever again. I had grown to love the musty, brick walls of our apartment. As much as I was thrilled to be going home, I was sad that this chapter would be ending.

I woke up at 5:30 and groggily changed in the dark before stripping my bed and gathering my things out in the living room. I had been particularly anxious about getting to the airport after the debacle for Elizabeth’s wedding, so Mom helpfully offered to schedule a car service to pick me up at 6. Even with that in mind, I sat anxiously on the couch for twenty minutes and waited for him to message me. Right on time, he sent me a text that he had pulled up outside my apartment, and honked his horn with a quick, needlessly loud “beeep!” I’m sure my neighbors were thrilled. I yanked my two suitcases outside, managed a rushed look over my shoulder to glance at my apartment for the last time, and then crammed my things into the van.

The driver and I sat in silence throughout the long, early-morning ride. I’m not much of a talker in the mornings, anyways, and I was also full of anxious energy. Home was so close, but I had to stay alert and make sure all of my travel plans went smoothly. The first hurdle would be getting through security at the Florence airport. Normally, that would be no problem, but just about every exchange student in the city would be leaving in the next day or two. I had heard classmates talk about the security line being flooded with kids, and it was all I could think about. That was part of why I was arriving at the airport an hour and a half before the airline desks even opened at 8am.

Sure enough, when I made it over there at 6:30, there was already a throng of about thirty American students, clad in sweatpants and puffer coats, sitting on the floor against their mountains of suitcases. I joined the group and settled in to wait and watch the time tick away. My flight would be boarding at 8:30 for a 9am departure, so I was a little nervous about getting through security in time. The longer I sat there, the more kids turned up: by the time it was 7:45, there were about two hundred kids huddled on the ground around the desks. This had no impact on the Italian employees. They eventually strolled over to the desks at a leisurely pace, sipping on cappuccinos and chatting with their coworkers as they avoided eye contact with all of us.

Finally, at 7:57, the employees called for us to start stepping up to the desks. Movement! I waited for a few minutes until it was finally my turn, grateful that I had gotten there so early, and eventually got my bags tagged and sent off. One thing checked off! After that, security was a breeze, and I made it to my gate just in time for boarding.

I slept on my flight from Florence to Paris, and I landed at 11:30. The next hurdle would be making it across CDG and through international security within the hour to board my flight to Dulles at 12:30. Let me tell you, I was booking it. I wasn’t running, but I was definitely clocking quite a pace! I had to take two different buses to get to the American terminal, and then I waited in line to get my passport checked and be let out into the regular area. By the time I got to my gate, they were already onto the third boarding group. Just in time! It was pretty surreal to finally get over there and realize that by the time this flight was over, my study abroad experience would be too.

I got on the plane after a bit, and I headed for the back of the plane. Although my flight here had been great because it was an overnight, this one ended up being pretty horrific because it was during the day. We finally took off at 2pm and I was left with just my thoughts, sad plane food, and a host of mediocre movies to get me through the next eight hours.

We finally landed at about 4pm eastern time, and before I knew it, I was in my mom’s car. Back home for good!

Week 16: 12/9 - 12/13

Final Exams and a Long Journey Home

Week 15: 12/2 - 12/8

Charlotte Harrison