Pisa, and the last of Italia

Let me first say, the bus ride to Pisa, Italy from Rome was the most picturesque bus ride I have ever been on in my life. Traveling through Europe made me privy to many beautiful places, but there is no countryside more naturally gorgeous than the Western Coast of Italy. I highly recommend bussing or taking a train through this during the day so you can witness the vibrant blues and greens and rolling hills and remote cottages that are too stunning to be properly captured in a picture. But anyways…

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On the bus to Pisa

Pisa! We made it. The final stop before going our separate ways in Spain. After the long bus ride, we made it to the slightly isolated and quaint province of Pisa. Pisa is not a huge, booming, tourist-filled city. Besides the Leaning Tower, there isn’t much else going on. But that’s all we came to see; and frankly, a sleepy town was perfect after all of the running around in Rome. We did a lot of walking through Pisa. Transportation was fairly reliable, and we were able to use both walking and the public bus system to get around. The Leaning Tower of Pisa is cool! It’s located in a pleasantly underrated area with surprisingly just a handful of tourists. It is a huge, sparkling white tower that does look like it’s about to fall over. It costs some euros to get in and walk to the top, so we opted out of that. After taking our stereotypical Leaning Tower pics, we headed “home” for the night. Our last night in Italy, and we ate Chinese takeout! You start to get over carbs, and since the only other options in Italian food are a side salad or some meat, we needed a break from authentic cuisine. The Chines food was surprisingly delicious! This laid-back night concluded our backpacking journey and my time in Italy. It was a truly unique country that I am eager to explore again. Our hostel was walking distance form the airport, and run by an impressive German trilingual fill-in traveler just getting into the hostel-running world, who did everything he could to make us feel at home. The next morning, bright and early at 5 am, we were off to catch our planes. Mine, to Madrid, to start my Spanish adventure.

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