I'm 21. I just moved to Germany after graduating college, and I'm desperate to start exploring this continent that I've seen so little of. Money is tight and I'm still making friends, so a day trip to Verona on my own is the perfect introduction to my wanderlust life for the next two years.
I don't know it yet, but Italy will become one of my favorite places. How could it not? It's cliché, but there's a reason everyone loves Italy. What are you looking for when you travel? Mountains? Check. Beaches? Check. History, castles, and old as shit architecture? Check x3. Divine food and wine? Obviously.
I book my FlixBus ticket, as again, I'm broke and young, so a 5-hour bus ride (with a layover at 2am) in the middle of the night is my best option. I get to Verona just as the sun is rising, and have to walk about a mile to the city centre. It's early, so I find a café and order the cutest croissant and espresso.
It's my first time exploring a city by myself. It's exhilarating, and overwhelming, and lonely. But there's something so inspiring about having an entire city to yourself, with no one telling you where to go or what to see. I continue walking along the river, over the bridge (Ponte de Castelvecchio) as the city wakes up.
My first real stop of the day is the Castelvecchio Museum. There's art, weapons, and statues all within a castle. When I buy my ticket, they tell me I have to store my backpack in a locker. No problem - I put the key to the locker in my back pocket.
When I finish perusing the castle, I take advantage of the free restroom, as I already know those are hard to come by in Europe. What I'm not prepared for is what the Italians consider a toilet - a literal hole in the ground. I'm smart enough to put my phone in a safe location, far away from the hole. I'm not, however, smart enough to remember the key to the locker in my back pocket. As I squat down, I hear it fall out of my pocket, and clank down the dark, bottomless hole. Fuck me.
In a moment I'm not proud of but would not change looking back, I decide to lie my ass off. "I lost the key," I tell the museum workers. They ask if I want help looking for it around the castle. "No," I tell them, "I can just give you money to replace it." They graciously refuse my money, and use a master key to open the locker and get my backpack for me. I rush out, text my roommate, and vow to never return to the doomed castle. It won't be my last experience with the dreaded holes in the ground, but it taught me a valuable lesson, that is to always check my pockets.
It's still early, and I still have so much city to explore. Verona is known as the birthplace of Romeo and Juliet, and I visit the iconic balcony that Juliet shouts to Romeo from. It is expectedly a bit underwhelming, but you can't go to Verona and not see it.
Another highlight of the city is the Verona Arena. Imagine a smaller Colosseum, with way less people, but stunning views and architecture nonetheless. I don't consider myself much of a history person, but it's hard not to be at least a little intrigued by it all when you're standing in something literally built in the year 30.
The day continues with aimless walks around the city, some light shopping, an amazing pizza at lunch (where I learn that the Italians don't cut their pizzas into slices). I booked my bus back for that evening, so I wouldn't have to spend money on lodging. But what that means is now that I'm tired, I have nowhere to rest. I hang out in a McDonalds for a bit, before it's acceptable for me to get dinner.
Dinner revives me. I sit outside in the city centre and order the most quintessential Italian meal: pasta, wine, and tiramisu. I don't care if this place is touristy, it's still divine. After dinner, I have a couple of hours before my bus ride back to Germany, but I'm exhausted from the day so I rest at the bus station until it's time to leave.
Is Verona my favorite city in the world? No. Would I go back? Maybe. But it was my first taste of Italy, my first taste of exploring on my own, and an amazing lesson on the highs and lows of traveling. It reminded me why I moved to Germany: to learn about other cultures and see the world.
And I learned that for every perfect croissant, there's going to be a hole in the ground that you have to pee in.
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