Day 11 night on train from Florence to Paris

Day 11 night on train from Florence to Paris

            Waking up in the middle of night I had no idea where am I. This was the first time I have this indescribable feeling. However, on this train from Florence to Paris, no one except the captain would know where we are in this particular of time.

            Does where we are really matter to us? The answer would be yes for most of the people, because there must be a place that belongs to each one of us and we call it home. The difference between each city and country is huge.

            At this point, I started to miss Italy. The second I step on the stone sidewalk I know I will fall in love with this city. The tinny stones on the streets enable the horse coaches run.

            Rome’s beauty of art impressed me. “Wherever I go is like walking in the museum.” I speak this to my dad when he asked my impression of this city. Not only the famous churches or the squares, but also the daily life architectures were amazing. The crafts on them were so detailed that look like they are moving.

            Florence had a similar artistic background because many famous Roman artists were born at here. However, it gave me a completely different feeling. Compare to the busy Rome, this whole city was just like having a tea break. Everyone was so leisured, falls in this artistic city. Great architecture designer Michael Angelo and amazing painter Leonardo Da Vinci were both born here.