Arrivederci My Friends. Arrivederci Europe.

This hurts. I mean it physically pains me to be typing this. This, being the last post of my European Adventure. The days have been trickling away slowly, and now I find myself one day away from getting on a plane and flying back to the United States and faced with the task of summing up this semester abroad. I know I wrote a little about homesickness and being excited to see my friends and loved ones back home, but I wrote a hell of a lot more on all the wonderful places I've seen and all of the amazing people I've met, and that, my friends, is what is hurting me. Leaving these places and these people is physically hurting me. Going through my head and trying to sum up these four months is physically hurting me. Its a pain I can't quite describe. Its an ache almost, from inside my chest and stomach [no, I'm not still suffering from the Egyptian shits...thank God]. And this ache can sometimes be accompanied by a sharp pain when the thought of glancing at the Duomo as I walk by it for the last time, or the thought of hugging a great, newly-made friend just before I get on the plane and be away from them for unknown amount of time. But I've decided, being the strong person that I am, that I will muster through the pain and fight off the potential tears to attempt to sum up this absolutely amazing and 'un-sum-up-able' trip.

I'd like to start off by stating something that, looking back, I can barely believe, but please know is absolutely true. One year ago, I did not want to study abroad. I did not want to leave the U.S. or my friends or home for that long of time. My mother and I actually fought about it, her arguing that I should go because it could be a once in a life time thing. And like I said, looking back, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking fighting with her [don't get used to this much honesty Mom]. Excuse my French, but honestly...what the hell? That being said, my opinion of study abroad has obviously changed. I can not even imagine a better opportunity for a college student. I have absolutely had the time of my life.














































Look at that...an entire semester abroad, summed-up in 21 pictures...yea right. These pictures are great. Some of my favorite actually. But not even the 21 pictures along with the thousands of memories could begin to sum up this semester. Not this post, nor all of them combined, can describe all of the life changing experiences, all of the fun, all of the amazing friends, all of the astounding trips that this semester has supplied. So, in a way this post fails. I am failing. Is it truly impossible to sum up this semester?

"Everything must belong somewhere. I know that now, I wish you'd leave me here." I can't get this Bright Eyes song out of my head. I am scattered. I don't know how to feel, how to think. Is it possible to be sad to leave, excited to get back home?

This is the hardest thing I've done in a while. I just stayed awake for 28 hours working on a studio final...this is harder. I've climbed to the top of the Duomo of Florence [all 467 steps... four times]. Hell, I even climbed to the top of Mount Vesuvius...writing this is harder. I've packed every belonging I've needed for living for a whole four months in only two bags...this is harder. How do you sum this up? I've typed and deleted paragraph after paragraph. Maybe if I never finish this blog, I will never have to leave Italy. I'll never have to leave this wonderful place. This place that has so many, many memories and many, many friends.

This hurts. But, I have to go home. Is it possible to be sad to leave but be happy to arrive at home? This hurts.

So what am I taking with me? The coffee shops of Amsterdam. The monuments of Rome. They are inside of me now. The Carnival of Venice and the leaning tower of Pisa, they're both inside of me. They are part of me. The smoke still bellowing from Vesuvio, the ash covering Pompeii, and the white pebbles of Capri. All of my memories and all of my moments, they are all a part of me. From the Pink Palace on Corfu to the Acropolis in Athens...and everything in between. The beaches of Barcelona, the beer of Munich, the creativity of Milan, and the every grain of the Sahara desert and every two ton stone of the pyramids has become a part of me! They are with in me now. But it's the cobble stone roads and the marble statues of Florence that I will be taking back with me the most. The architecture, this school. The games of hearts and 10's and 2's. The drunken walks to clubs that I couldn't even get you to sober, but somehow made it there are back with little recollection of the night. The nights we all laughed until our jaws ached. The beers we drank on the edge of the bridge or on top of the Duomo. The people who I didn't even know they're names before I got here, and now consider them people I love. These things...these things have not only become a part of me, but they have shaped me. They have made me a better person over the short span of a semester. And because I cannot stay here...I will take them all with me...with in me.

So to you guys, the ones who actually give a shit, and read my blog...first off, thank you. Thank you for caring enough about what is going on in my life. To those at home in the United States, I asked you to please travel, no matter how worried you are about leaving home or being away from you're friends and family for a long amount of time! Don't worry about the money and effort, it's all worth it. Dive in! Please see these places! Please see other places, and tell me about them! Please remember my tattoo, and that any short tick of the clock could be your last! And finally, I will see you sooooo soon and I am excited to be in all of your companies again! I am excited for hugs, kisses, beers with old friends, and [of course] lunch at Peking Place.

Now, for the hard part. For those of you here in Italy with me. Those of you who I am leaving for an unknown amount of time. Thank you. Thank you for making my semester amazing. Not even beaches of Barcelona or the Pyramids of Giza would be half as exciting or fun if I wasn't able to share them with you. Please take all of them, along with all of our great memories and pictures, back to the States inside of you, like I am. Thank you for the laughs, thank you for the drinks, thank you for the long nights out and the full days at the beach or in the park. I will miss you all more than I can even describe. It is astounding how you've affected me over this semester, but you have and I thank you. Some of you I will see next semester at Kent, and we will have so many memories to talk about and great friendships to continue. But some of you I may not see for a while, but I can promise you this. If I ever find myself in the proximity of Cleveland, or Chicago, or California, or Idaho, or even the dirty Jers...I will give you a call. But only if you promise me that if you ever make it as far as the best state in the country [and you know what it is, so I'm not gonna even say it...], you give me a call so we can party hard and re-live our semester in Florence a little bit.

Finally, I have something to say to you Europe. Yea...that's right! You! I am sorry I could not sum you up. Many, I'm sure, have tried, all have failed. So I will simply take you back with in me. You have changed me. You have helped me. You have made me a bigger, better, smarter, and more culturally diverse person. I thank you. And don't count on this being the last time you see this face! Ciao for now Europe, ciao for now!

I Fell Off a Camel...No Big D [CAIRO]

The number one thing on Lucas' list of things to do while studying abroad was to... stop referring to himself in the third person. The second was to... see the Pyramids.

Just kidding. Seeing the Great Pyramids of Giza was always number one on my list of things to do/see and that is why I saved my trip to Cairo, Egypt as one of my grand finales. So I spent too much money and traveled on a weekend when I should have been doing school work and was on planes, trains, and automobiles for two full days and got really bad food poisoning from which I am still suffering, but...I put a big scratch across one of the top things on my Bucket List. Thank God.

Thursday was a full day of traveling. From Florence to Milan by Train. Then Milan train station to Milan International airport by bus. Then Milan to Cairo by plane. And then the craziest cab ride I have ever been on in my entire life [note first blog on crazy Florence taxi's...crazier...WAY crazier]. We were exhausted when we arrived at our hostel in Egypt. WAKE UP CAIRO was the name of the hostel ironically, and the owners were awesome! One of them took us out to coffee and to smoke a hookah with him before we returned and smoked some hash with them before we went to bed.

+Hash is illegal in Egypt, but it is not a major crime because the majority of the population smokes it daily. If you are caught with Hash by the authorities they just take it from you and let you go. [I do not know this from experience...I promise! Only from our hash smoking Hostel owners]

= ( [this is going to be the symbol for ways I could have contracted this terrible stomach virus]
= ( #1.) from smoking from the same hookah and joint as an Egyptian.











When driving in Egypt, it is important that you are aware of that large button in between your hands on the steering wheel...that's right...the horn. It seems that Egyptian drivers speak in 'horn' all the time when driving. Here's a list of things a honk of the horn could possibly mean while driving in Egypt...

- Look out! You're pulling out in front of me!
- Faster! I'm right on your ass!
- Hi!
- I'm about to turn left.
- I'm about to merge into your lane.
- I'm about to turn right.
- Here I come in between you while straddling the double painted lines on the road.
- Fuck you!
- Thanks!
- Get out of the way pedestrian...I will hit you.
- Get our of the way police officer...I will hit you.
- I just like honking my horn out of pure habit!

...amongst numerous other things. It actually seems like they're at the point where they are desensitized to the sound of the horn, and yet we did not see one car crash. I am still not sure how we made it out of any of those cab rides alive.

= ( #2.) from wincing in fear for my life during ever taxi ride.

Friday, we rented camels and horses and took a four hour ride and tour to the Pyramids and the Sphinx. But before we even made it to the desert line...

= ( #3.) I feel off my camel...into camel shit...







It was no big D, but camels are tall mother fuckers. I fell a good five feet, cutting open my knees and elbow. So after a quick clean off with the bottled water and a shit-ton of Purel, I was back in business...a little more wherry of the camel from here on out though. But spite my early fall, the trip was amazing. The entire thing was surreal. I could not believe I was riding a camel through the Sahara Desert towards the Great Pyramids of Giza. I couldn't help but whistle the Indian Jone's theme out loud, which made our fifteen year old, little boy of a tour guide smile.

After the beauty and wonderment of the Pyramids we took a quick nap and then went on a Nile River Cruise for dinner. The cruise had an all you can eat buffet, belly dancers, and ...

=Birra of the Blog=
...and some authentic Egyptian beer! Luxor was the second Egyptian beer I tried and I enjoyed it the most. It has a lighter beer taste, similar to that of Becks. It's pretty good, being that it's brewed in a country that majority of the population doesn't drink alcohol.

= ( #4.) from the first Egyptian Cuisine I've ever had.









Saturday, we saw the Egyptian Museum, which isn't that great except for the King Tut exhibit, and then the Citial, which has the largest Mosque in Egypt [the Mosque of Muhammad Ali] and the Egyptian Military Museum. That was the other surreal thing about Cairo, it was my first visit to a Muslim city. It seemed like the prayers that were being called from the minerets of the mosques were constant. People stopping their daily lives shopping or eating at a resturant...to lay our a mat in a small narrow street and get on theyre knees, bowing over and over again in prayer. It was really breath taking and quite interesting. I can't help but say I felt, not uncofortable or threatened, but...just a little out of place, I guess would be a good way of putting it. But I am very happy and thankful to have witnessed it all.

That night we went out to a large T.G.I. Friday's club on the Nile River for some good old American food, some hooka, and some drinks.

= ( #5.) from God punishing me because I ate American food in Egypt...

Sunday was another full day of travel, unfortunately, this time, accompanied by vomitting and direahha [sorry for the graphic details]. I actually puked while the plane was landing into Milan. That's somthing I can laugh about now...I wasn't laughing then. So we made it to and from Egypt. We saw the Pyramids and alot more. We rode camels. I fell off one. And we all got food poisoning. No terrorist. No plane trouble [despite Frank's nightmare]. And no other problems except for a mild case of the shits and the want to go back again sometime before I die.

All's well that ends well...on my 'last horrah' trip studying abroad. It's crazy that I leave to head back home in just five short days. I will have one last post in Florence before I say 'farewell' to Europe for a while...and 'hello again' to the US of A.

I Don't Care If I Die [BARCELONA]

The whole plan was ridiculous.

-2:10 Take a final exam in 5 minutes
-Sprint to the train station
-2:30 Catch the bus to Pisa
-3:40 Arrive at Pisa airport
-4:10 Catch a plane to Barcelona
-and if we somehow managed all that, party our asses off in Barcelona

There was no way this could have worked. Between professors showing up late, being totally out of shape, a bus that's never on time, and ridiculously long check-in and security lines...we missed our flight. But this wasn't before we gave it the good-ole college try. In the midst of our high speed adventure we found our selves sharing a taxi cab with two young Swedish men. They spoke pretty good English with a funny accent and pretty good Italian also [which saved our collective ass with the taxi driver]. They asked the taxi driver to get to Pisa's airport as fast as he could and we collectively agreed. That was until we were barreling down the highway at what had to be close to 120 miles per hour. One of my partners in [crime] travel, Kayte, let out a small worried 'wooo'. This is when one of the Sweeds, sitting next to her, smiles knowing she was intimidated by the speed and says what would be come the moto for the whole trip to Barcelona. "I don't care if I die" with his funny accent.

But despite our lack of fear of death, we still missed out flight out of Pisa. But there was no way we were going to let this stop us. We had already come so far, invested so much. What was another two hundred euro? [a question I wish I could answer differently now...this doesn't mean I would still go to Barcelona in a heart beat]. So we did, in fact, make it to Barcelona, Spain [just a little later than originally planned].












Let me start of the recap of this journey with this statement. When I first arrived in Europe, Florence was my favorite city [because I had not been anywhere else]. Then I went to Amsterdam and that definitly was my favorite city and then Munich barely passed it for number one. I can easily say that Barcelona, Spain is my favorite city which I visited in Europe. It is absolutely beautiful, both visiually and culturaly. Architecture, Art, live music on the streets, white sandy beaches, cheap beer, delicous Spanish and Mexican food, beautiful woman, all can be found in Barcelona.











And to make it even better [just when you thought it couldn't...it can], thanks to Nik and his wonderful father, we stayed all three nights of our trip to Barcelona in the Hotel Ritz. Hands down, the nicest hotel I have ever stayed in [in my entire life]. We were truly living in style. Plus there was an awesomely classy Jazz bar right across the street which put out great Mojitos.







So the next three days consisted of beach'n it up with some cold...

=Birra of the Blog=
There are very few things in this world better than an ice cold beer on the beach with the sun beating down and the sound of waves crashing in the background [my father will agree]. And other than drinking ice old beer on the hot, sunny beach, there's not much better than trying a new type of beer. I got to do both at the same time! Imagine the grin on my face. I can't say that Estrella Damm is my favorite beer, but combined with my memories of Barcelona its definitly up there. When in Barcelona, try this home-brewed beer just beause it cheap [60 cents a can] and you can drink it on the beach.

They also consisted off, sandcastels, handstands, refreshing dips in the Mediterrean Sea [by refreshing, I mean a little chilly], some spicy tacos and completely covered nachos, more cheap beer, mojitos, street music, mexican happy hours, and some bad [yet halarious] decisions. Two of which, against my better judgement, I will tell you about. The thing to keep in mind is "bad", in the sense of "bad" decisions, is all in the eye of the beholder. So you, being the "beholder", try and "behold" these two decisions with the lightest of hearts [see A Light Heart post below] and keep in mind that alcohol does funny things to your decisoin making skills.

"BAD" DECISION #1: From the moment I set eyes on it I knew exactly what had to be done. It was huge and beautiful and we were in the hotel Ritz for Christ's sake! So, we got boozed up on the beach and came back to the room, filled it, and got in...all of us.











Yes, were wearing our bathing suits...in this picture...


"BAD" DECISION #2: As we sat on the beach drinking our cold beers there was only one thing distracting us away from Barcelona and its beaches' beauty. And that was the hideous [in our educated-architecturally opinion] Frank Ghery sun shade that topped the terrace of the Hotel Arts [probably the most famous and most expensive hotel in Barcelona].

So we made the slightly inebriated decision to walk into the hotel, acting as if we were actualy guests of this fancy-smancy place. We needed to get a closer look at the monostrosity. So we did. To the terrace we went, were we found, along with the hedeous sunshade, a hot tub with three American girls [not the dolls...actual human beings] in it. We also found that a waitress would come take your drink order for one, two, or five mojitos while you sat in the hot tub. We also found that no one seemed to mind if you only wore your underwear in the hot tub. We ALSO found that the near by pool is alot closer than the restrooms. We ALSO found a wedding party on the roof top terrace. And here in lies the "bad" decision [ I know your thinking, we already made a few, but keep in mind Mr./Ms. Beholder, were just having a good time with out hurting anyone...yet]. When the oppurtunity arose for me to walk up to the wedding party on the roof top terrace of the grand Hotel Arts with the shitty Frank Ghery sun shade and its mohito serving waitress...in just my underwear...to try to get some champagne...I couldn't pass it up [could you?]. Very long story short, we got drunk on the roof top terrace of Hotel Arts and I never got any champagne.











See that wasn't so bad. Just think, now I can say I took a bubble bath with two other guys and a girl in the Hotel Ritz of Barcelona. Or, I was half naked in front of a wedding party on top of Hotel Arts. I wonder if anyone can say that along with me. I'm sure there are a few in this world...but not many.

Anyway, before you go thinking that we drank our weekend away in Barcelona, allow me to agree...no I'm only joking. Along with the drinking [which only seems like alot because of those redic stories, Mr./Ms. Beholder], we saw the Olypic Park were we got to take a cable car up a mountian to a very cool castel, which was used to defend the port city, we visited Gaudi's Park Gwell which was absolutely astounding [especially being architecture students],we also got to see Gaudi's Sagrata Fimilia, and we walked all around exploring the beautiful city. So, we did alot more than just drink, but those thing aren't as fun to tell you about.








All and all, my tip to my favorite European city [so far], Barcelona, turned out to be one of my favorite trips [so far] also. We did it up right. Hell, we paid for two plane tickets just to get there, there was no damn way I wasn't swimming in the Mediterrean or getting my picture taken infront of Park Gwell or eating a huge Nacho Grande or washing it down with a Carona...or walking up to a wedding party in just my underwear. That's just what you do in Barcelona, you have the time of your life and you follow up every drink cheers with [in your best faked Swedish accent] "I don't care if I die!"

The Only Cure... [FLORENCE]

Its been four months since I've arrived here in Florence. Time has absolutely flown by, but looking back at arriving and the first few trips [like Amsterdam], they seem so long ago. Time is a strange and mysterious bitch, but over it, I have developed a homesickness that I never thought I would catch. It's a small annoyance that is not at all keeping me from having the time of my life over here, but it sometimes causes a longing like an itch I can't scratch. So, in light of that fact, I have constructed a list...

Things I Miss Terribly Stateside
1. Free Refills
2.Kraft macaroni and cheese
3. Hines ketchup dispensers
4. Kara
5. Natti Light
6.Bubba and Pop
7. Peking Place
8. Driving
9. Swimming
10. my bike
11. Dylan
12. Philly stories
13. Mom and Dad
14. drying machines
15. hot girls who actually talk to me
16. No conversion rates
17. Michalob Ultra
18. greasy American Pizza
19. Movies
20. all my friends
21. I would say peanut butter except for the very reason for this post...

Even if you could hand me three slices of Santo's pizza and a Michy right this moment, although I would be in heaven, I would only be there for that short moment. Small fixes of home, as wonderful as they might be, only suppress the the sickness. The only cure for homesickness is...home itself.

On Sunday March 29, I received three huge, wonderfully delicious jars of peanut butter from none other than my family [see #6, #11, #13, and #21 on the list of Things I Miss Terribly Stateside]. So I probably won't be able to eat peanut butter at all for a month when I return to the US [...yeah right].

The fam's arrival into Pisa was bitter-sweet with hugs, kisses, and lost luggage, but never the less, they pressed on and we visited the Leaning Tower of Pisa and made our way back to Florence. The next day we [barely] made it to Assisi in two different traveling parties on two different trains [train stations can be a bitch]. And over the next week they somehow managed to hit up just about every single museum, momunment, and church in Florence. Great meals that I normaly can't afford, drinking wine I normally can't afford, being a tour quide, getting Dylan drunk at a club, climbing the Dome of Florence for the fourth time [never gets old...that is climbing the Dome, the Dome itself is very old on the other hand], and showing off my broken Italian were only some of the highlights. But, by far, the best thing [like I've said numerous times before] about having loved ones visit you while studying abroad, is having them experience what you have been experiencing. Especially when it's family, because they get to see where all the money they have invested is going.
















Pisa, Assisi, Florence, and Rome...thats one hellava [Good Dip...#22 on the list of Things I Miss Terribly Stateside] week of traveling in Italy, by any standards. But as great as it was so see Mom, Dad, Dylan, Bubba and Pop, to show them what I've been experiencing, to get three huge jars of peanut butter, as great as all that is...it was merly a suppression for homesickness. And while the peanut butter will be plenty to get me through these last weeks, the only cure for this small annoyance called homesickness will come on May 15. And that is ...home.

Mom, Dad, Dylan, Bubba, and Pop, thank you soooo much for spending the time, money, and effort to get here. It was as much, if not more, of a pleasure for me as it was for you guys. Thank you soooo much for spending the time, money, and effort getting me here! If it wasn't for you guys [plus Grandma, Pap Pap, and Mom Litz], I wouldn't be here. Thank you! See you soon!