I’m finally getting around to writing another entry. Se io fossi in Texas, I would probably be at a coffee shop or some other Austin locale, but instead I’m looking out at one of Rome’s many ancient wonders: il Circo Massimo. I struggle to fathom what this great arena looked like in its prime–marble pillars rising to the sun, the deafening roar of three hundred thousand spectators, the thrashing thunder of hooves as the pack of horses rounded the near corner. Even two millennium later, the distinctive ring of the track hearkens back to a time of great spectacle and indulgence. This is the backdrop I chose to be the catalyst for my thoughts.

You’ll have to excuse my slight indulgence there. Often I find it difficult to believe that I’m actually in Italy, because of all the awesome things that I see and experience, and this past weekend again pushed the limits. I originally planned on traveling to Firenze, then added Venezia, and finally added Milano and Bologna when I realized that it would be only 20euro more to visit them. I want to experience as much of Italy as possible while I’m here, so I’m traveling to as many cultural centers as I can. Maybe hitting four in one weekend isn’t ideal, but I don’t have much choice due to limited time and resources.

First up: Milano. My buddy Gabriel joined me for this trip and we departed from Roma Thursday afternoon circa 3:30pm. A least that’s what our ticket said; for this particular train ride, we sprung for the “luxury” Eurostar train–you know, the nicer one, the one that’s supposed to actually be on time–and it was an hour late. So much for Italian reliability. Anyways, the Italian countryside was absolutely stunning! I highly recommend traveling by train if you are ever in Italy, simply so that you can get a glimpse of the beauty of the country. We arrived in Milano about 10pm and met up with Roberto, our very hospitable host whom we met through couchsurfing.com.

Despite the late hour, Roberto took us on a quick foot tour of the city. Everything in Milano is so much cleaner than in Roma! No trash littering the streets, nor as much graffiti. It was a welcome change. I also didn’t mind that Roberto lived in the fashion district and took us to a few bars nearby that were filled with up-and-coming Italian models. Needless to say, their company made the rest of our tour a little more enjoyable.

Milano doesn’t have the ancient history that Rome does, but we did manage to see a few great sites. The city Duomo is one of Italy’s only true Gothic churches and creates quite an impression, as does the neighboring Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, a 150 year old monument that has been transformed into Milano’s shopping center. (Michelle, eat your heart out!) All in all, Milano is a very modern city full of good-looking people, but I think it lacks that certain Italian charm.

Friday we awoke bright and early, grabbed the mandatory cappuccino and pastry, then raced to catch our train to Venezia. We purchased tickets for the “cheap” train this time, but it turned out to be more comfortable and quicker than the Eurostar, so we were thoroughly pleased with this decision. Besides, we slept the entire way.

Venice! Need I say more? No, but I might as well… Arriving in Venezia by train made me laugh; the train pulls up as far as possible to a specific side of the station, you depart from the train and walk through an archway, which opens up to a mass of water–the road literally ends here. From this point on, your only means of transportation will be aquatic or by foot via the paths and bridges that lace the city together. There exists no other city experience like it!

Maneuvering through the buildings feels like walking (or floating, depending on your mode of transport) through a movie set. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. There wasn’t one part of Venezia that failed to invoke a sense of surrealism; even the trouble that I got into didn’t seem real. Upon arrival, Gabriel and I sat down on the steps outside the train station to soak (pun intended) everything in. Not five minutes later two armed guards come up to us and demand to see our “papers” (you may remember a similar experience in Roma from before). Evidently I look like a terrorist to these people. It took all my self-control to not bust out with a Cheech and Chong impression and simply tell them to politely vaffanculo.

That night Gabriel and I met up with a bunch of other UT students and enjoyed an incredible dinner together. I ordered a dish that included veal, salmon, and beef like butter. Amazing. Afterwords we went in search of some nightlife to ease the “stress” of a full day of sightseeing. Twisting through the city, after consuming more than a few drinks, we discovered the famed Casinò di Venezia. Upon entry everyone was a little intimidated and decided to go somewhere else, but I had to stay. Something about this place attracted me.

Even if you’ve never been to an American casino, you probably have a good idea of what one would be like: colorful lights, people laughing, sexy cocktail girls, etc. Now throw out that idea completely. With the exception of the actual games being played, this casino bared little resemblance to any I had experienced previously. Upon entrance you are subject to more security than when entering the country. A suit jacket must be worn at all times. You have to present your passport and agree to a database search. Only after passing all these prerequisites can you walk over to a final inspection where you are photographed and allowed to follow a staircase upstairs to the gambling floor.

While waiting to go through the above, I overheard the distinctive sound of drunk American millionaires causing a scene and attempting to flirt with every girl in sight. I also perceived the impending arrival of two police officers who were walking quite briskly from across the room. Thinking quickly–perhaps stupidly–I stepped in to assist my fellow Americans and raddled off a barrage of Italian words in an attempt to pacify the authority figures. Something I said worked and they put away the tazers and let us be. My new friends were so thankful that they even paid the deposit for my jacket rental. On to the party! Right?

We all strolled upstairs, feeling quite confident after our recent brush with the law, and rounded the corner to the main hall of the casino. Remember those images of laughing people and half-naked servers? Replace those with a James Bond -esque, high-stakes intensity in an immaculate setting. No smiles, no shiny objects, not even drinks at the tables. Every player dressed to a T with a girl by his side, every door guarded by a man with sunglasses and a wire running from his ear to his shirt collar. The rumors, evidently, were true: Mafia.

Of the six of us, myself and two others decided to find the bar and scope the place out. We walked into the next room, a room split in half by iron bars: us on one side, and tellers with hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash on the other. I think I left a drool stain where my jaw hit the floor. We stumbled in a haze to the next room which thankfully contained the bar. I took a seat and accepted Brad’s generous offer of a free beer.

Turns out Brad, the CEO, and his associates had just brokered a $130million IPO deal for a well-known Venetian glass company and were taking a night out on the town before their flight home. Their stories fascinated me, and peculiarly, my stories fascinated them. Brad, Richie, and I continued our conversation and drinks until we were interrupted by a slight commotion coming from the main hall. Chris bursts in, rambling on about a dirty dealer and credit cards and, oh, he just took out another 4000euro. Say what?

We stayed late into the night, me making excuses and apologizing for them in Italian, getting free drinks, and gambling other people’s money. We parted ways upon the sunrise, happy to have made it out without ticking off the wrong person. I went to hail a cab and then remembered… no cabs. Right. Somehow I found the back alley where Gabriel was staying at a friend’s apartment and together we rushed to catch our train. With fifteen seconds to spare we jumped on board and I immediately passed out en route to our next destination.

Doubting that the third leg of our journey could contain as much excitement as Venezia, I still eagerly anticipated visiting Bologna. I posses a unique knowledge and appreciation for the city, as it is the original founding place of my old fraternity, Kappa Sigma, and home to one of my Italian professors at UT. I learned about it during my fraternity days and have always wanted to see the City of Letters, home to world’s largest and oldest university, and ranked to be among the highest quality-of-life cities in all of Italy. Unfortunately, due to an appointment at noon in Firenze, we were able to schedule only a brief two-hour stop in the city.

Bologna distinctively reminded me of Austin. Students were everywhere, the streets were wide and American-esque, the buildings bright and inviting. There seemed to be a perfect merger of the old with the new. We first took a quick cab to the Torre Degli Asinelli e Torre Garisendi, the most famous of the city’s remaining twenty (of almost 200) towers. Next we walked to the Basilica di San Petronio, one of the biggest in the world (during construction it was intended to be larger than St. Peter’s in Rome, but Pope Pius IV ordered that the church be kept in check).

The youthful energy of Bologna struck a chord. I didn’t expect the city to make such an impression on me, but now I strongly desire to come back and study at the university here. I wish that I had allotted more time to stay in Bologna. Ah, next time. On to Firenze!

A short train ride and we were in Florence. Gabriel and I quickly walked to meet up with our class for an appointment to enter the Accademia di Belle Arti. I still felt the haze of travel as we entered the building, went through security, and tried to keep the group together. I remember talking with someone, not focusing on my surroundings, when suddenly standing at the end of the corridor, there it stood: il David di Michelangelo.

I cannot describe the wonder at seeing the David in person. One is immediately struck by its shear size, a towering 17′, which dominates the entire museum space. Every vein, every curve of the body, every lock of hair bares exquisite detail. It’s magnificent. After circling it numerous times, taking photos despite the museum staff yelling at me to stop, I simply sat and stared at the statue for an extended period. This was worth my entire trip to Italy.

After seeing the David in person, everything else paled in comparison. I spent two hours browsing through the Uffizi, but somehow most of the art seemed… normal. The great Palazzo Vecchio, with the old palace of the Medici family, still wowed me, however. I’m fascinated by the history and control of the Medici, the richest and most powerful family in Europe from the 13th to 17th centuries, so that one had a bit of an advantage. (If you aren’t familiar with them, I suggest browsing the Medici Wikipedia article; highly interesting.) A quick stop by the Campanile di Maria del Fiore and my time had run out. Gabriel and I made our way to the train station, were lucky enough to secure a cabin just to ourselves, and promptly fell asleep.

There is so much more that I want to tell about my trip–from the profane to the profound–but the length of this post and my desire to continue writing are strong limiting factors. My hope is that you can get but a glimpse into my experiences, even though so much is left out. I’ll have to write an article summarizing the philosophical growth that I’ve been exposed to, my impressions of Italy on the whole, or even a simple post comparing the cultures of the various areas.

Or better yet, let’s just grab a beer and I’ll tell ya.