Florence or Barcelona? It was the question that faced me two years ago, when I was deciding where to study for my spring semester abroad. For a while I was leaning towards Spain and whenever I saw the guys I was planning to go with we would all yell “Barcelona!” and toast with whatever was on hand. I ultimately chose Florence and never looked back. Florence was filled with culture, delicious food and was in Italy. Barcelona, on the other hand, seemed like a whole other beast. My friends who studied there came home with wrinkles and failing livers from a solid schedule of clubbing 5x a week. I decided, retroactively, that I’d made the best decision for myself.
Until last summer, when I traveled in Spain for the first time and spent five wonderful, sun filled days in Barcelona.
I try to never live with regret. Its useless, and Florence was amazing. But I do know that somehow, someday, I’ll be living in Spain, liver failing, wrinkles galore, yelling “Barcelona!” to strangers and never looking back.