I have to admit to you that at this point in my journey, I was definitely dragging my feet. I was bored of wandering aimlessly in city after city. It was wonderful and exciting, but I’d fallen into a routine, and something needed to change and engage my over-active brain. Which is ironic, because the constant change was the routine. So the solution, it seemed, was to get my butt to school. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make a week go by faster than a week, so I whiled away the time in Pisa. Poor me.
If Milan was too big and industrial, Pisa was exactly what I thought an Italian city should be. In other words, not Milan. It was small, walkable, and the buildings were old and colorful and Italian-esque, and there was a river running through the middle. It seems that all the best cities in Europe have rivers running though them.
So I found my hostel, found a supermarket (which was not so super), and fed myself. Something you should know about us backpackers, or at least me, is that when it comes time to feeding ourselves, or at least myself, we make some form of pasta with eggs and whatever cultural something or other we can find that will make a somewhat palatable combination. In Dublin I started frying salami in a pan just to use the grease to fry an egg. In Switzerland I scrambled eggs and leftover chicken into pasta. Never any milk, because you can’t take it with you.
The Tower: The Leaning Tower of Pisa is approachable from all directions via any number of streets which all look the same and wend and wind in a similar manner. In other words, it’s like getting through the Labyrinth, but no David Bowie. And the Tower itself? Well, they weren’t kidding when they said it was leaning. I was shocked. I guess I had been expecting more of a Tilting Tower of Pisa, but with all those tourists who payed 10 euro or more crawling all over it, I’m surprised I didn’t see it become the Falling Tower of Pisa.