The Temperature Edit

This blog is a bit more in depth than my usual one, Italy inspiring to write about my travels and food as well. I hope you all enjoy my ramblings!

The outfit I wore on my first day in Florence was based on the chilly breeze that seemed to whip around the Duomo, although defining the weather as cold seems privileged. With a light jacket it was the perfect weather to walk around in, which is what I spent the majority of my day doing. From the outside of the Duomo ( not everyone has enough money to go in) and a stroll through the Ufizi, my day was wonderful, and about to get better. I felt lucky that my Reeboks have held up throughout my walking and rain filled days in England, proving themselves worthy of being my sole shoe companion for this trip.

I made a quick reservation for lunch, glancing over the menu long enough to see ‘spritz’ and clicking ‘reserve’. I was seated close to the door at a two seater. Once I plopped down I noticed the wobble in the chair, and how heavy it made me feel. There were at least two inches missing from one of the legs, leaving me careening back and forth. Usually I would sit back and do my best to ignore it, but instead I stood up and switched the chairs around. The staff seemed confused, and rushed to help me, eventually taking the broken chair away all together. I ordered a spritz, a caprese for an appetizer and carbonara. A couple sat next to me, and I couldn’t help sneaking glances towards them as they conversed. They didn’t sound very happy, specifically the woman. They also sounded wealthy, a slight lilt to their voice with flowy outfits that probably cost more than my flights. My caprese, spritz, and table bread arrived all at once, and I automatically dug in. It was fantastic. As I savored my food, the couple beside me became impossible to ignore.

“ This was a bad choice.” The woman complained to her boyfriend. I assumed she was talking about the restaurant( how could Florence be a bad choice!?). 

“ There were so many other, better places we could have gone than this.” She droned on, picking at the small plate of fish in front of her. Her boyfriend nodded as she spoke, and I wonder if she was really criticizing him instead of the food.

I had just finished dousing my bread in olive oil as my carbonara arrived. It was a yellow color reflective of the egg base, and for a moment I was worried about the flavor. Until I had a bite. It was salty perfection. One thing I love about this restaurant is that they brought out a bowl of parmesan and a spoon, and left it on the table for me. This allowed me to douse my pasta in cheese, far too much then I would have asked for in different circumstances. I couldn’t stop smiling, and as the couple next to me’s french fries got dropped off they started complaining again. 

“Do you like the bag I got?” The woman said, pointing to the beautiful leather strung beside her. Her boyfriend nodded.

“ Its nice.” She huffed at his response.

“I’m not sure if I love the bag.“ She starts to pull up the image app on her phone. “ I feel like the other bag we were looking at was nicer.” She holds her phone up towards him, which is coincidentally towards me. She flipped between the images of her covered in bags, and in each she had the same miserable expression on her face, a deep-set frown and lowered eyebrows. I almost laughed. How can one be so miserable when eating pasta in Florence?!

“ How much was the bag we got?” She kept using the word we, but her question cleared up that the correct term was he.

“ 205 I think.” I almost choked. He said it so casually, as if it meant nothing. At this point I stopped listening, I couldn’t even fathom how incredibly blessed they were to be spending so much money in Florence, yet could still be so ungrateful about it. 

I ate all of my pasta, and started to feel guilty about the tightness of my shirt, craving a looser fit. The phrase ‘ When else will I be in Italy,’ has the power to shoot those ideas down quickly, and I will miss when I no longer can use it as an excuse.

This outfit became a transition period, a day of travel between Florence and Rome. Breezy enough to wear a light jacket but warm enough to finally bare my legs, to me this outfit represented the feeling of spring. In the morning, I leaned against a railing in it, eating a pastry and looking at the Duomo for the last time. I then took the train to Rome, and checked into my hostel quickly before going back out to explore the world.

It was on this train-ride that I realized that every sight I wanted to see was in fact a 30+ walk away from my hostel. Fortunately for me, my skirt was also athletic wear, and was perfect for a speedy walk to the Trevi fountain. On the way I grabbed two thick slices of pizza, which made me feel even better about my decision to visit Rome. The water at the fountain was bright and clear, but I had to stand on my tip toes simply to get a picture that didn’t include the tops of peoples heads. From there, I strolled to the Piazza de Popo, and rested my feet for a moment before the 50 minute walk back to my hostel, which unfortunately included some stairs. On the way I had gelato, a fun way to break up the long walk in the sun.

After a few hours of laying barefoot in my hostel and letting my sore feet stretch, I slid the sneakers back on and walked to a restaurant my best friend recommended. She had just been in Rome a few days earlier, and I liked to imagine sitting where she sat, able to spend time with her once again.

The waiter said that the restaurant was full, but that for me, they had a table. I decided to dabble in a lemon drop martini, which automatically burned the back of my throat and left me lightheaded.

In Italy, I treat myself. I ordered focaccia to start, and the cacio e pepe. The focaccia had rosemary in it, and when dipped in peppered olive oil became more sacred to me than gelato. Then, the cacio e pepe came. It was perfection, the best cacio e pepe I have ever had. They used rigatoni instead of a stringed noodle, which somehow made me enjoy it more. As I ate, I sat in my silence, and truly appreciated that my dream of traveling Italy has come true. That I, am living the dream.

It was the warmest day of my trip, so of course I dressed in a way that resulted in a farmers tan. I wore a black cropped t shirt and blue jeans with a matching black belt. On that day I was visiting the colosseum, and wanted to look my best to beg strangers to take pictures of me. One of the downsides of solo travel is the fact you can only take selfies of yourself, unless you want to entrust your expensive camera to a stranger. But for the sunny day at the colosseum, I found the ability to trust. I made sure to ask strangers when I was inside and outside the colosseum, pushing back my usual fear of being bothersome.

In all, that day was my favorite day in Rome. The purple flowered trees that framed the Roman Forum, allowed me to imagine I was in another time. Walking into the colosseums arena and seeing the crowds of tourists filling it, for a moment put me in the shoes of a gladiator. If anyone has any historical fiction recommendations where the main character is a gladiator, please let me know in the comments ( especially if its a horror novel).

After my trek in the sun, I read my book outside my hostel to cool off, relaxing for a bit before my long night. I had a cooking class, focused on making fettuccine, ravioli and tiramisu. It is important to note that this class was also all you can drink in wine, which my ‘peers’ and I took advantage of. In our small circle there was a group of girls celebrating their friends 30th birthday from New York, a couple honeymooning, and a couple from London celebrating one of the boys birthday. I loved it. The girls were cool, discussing how they travel together a few times a year, recently in Sweden. It was nice to talk to fellow New Yorkers. The boys were also fun, discussing why I might believe that the food in England is disgusting, and what my favorite parts of studying abroad has been.

The food we cooked was wonderful, wine- drunk and giddy was the perfect way to end my favorite day, full of beautiful sights and beautiful people.

I returned back to England a day ago, so grateful to have documented my journey and outfits. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Thats all for the Temperature edit! Stay Stylish