With street names like Via delle Belle Donne (Beautiful Women Street), one has to wonder how even seemingly mundane details of this city are infused with loveliness.

The streets themselves are lovely. Designer boutiques like Gucci, Ferragamo and Prada line extravagant Via de' Tornabuoni, a higher end stretch of shops ideal for window shopping. You'll get lost in San Lorenzo's outdoor market, rich with colourful merchants who will get on their knees and beg you (I'm serious) to try on their goods. You'll marvel at glittery jewelry stores along historic Ponte Vecchio, one of many cobblestone bridges that cross Arno.

But since Italy and Italian cuisine are so inextricably linked, I have to say that Florentine cuisine is probably best and simplest cuisine that exists, using basic, fresh ingredients, most of which are grilled (alla Fiorentina) to perfection. If you decide to eat in some of more touristy areas (in any of major piazze, or town squares) you'll pay double, maybe triple, cost of what a Florentine citizen would pay. San Lorenzo has some great, reasonably-priced restaurants and of course there are hundreds of cafes, bars and pubs. The pizza - in almost every pizza place - is mouth-watering.

And gelato? Oh, gelato ... It is suffice to say that La Paloma and other gelaterie that are scattered around Toronto simply pale in comparison to what Florence has to offer. But since I am not a talented enough writer to do it justice with words, gelato mention here will be minimal.

Florence is ineffable, and with obvious bias aside, full of love. Yet, in midst of all of this tangible beauty (including 60 per cent of UNESCO World Heritage Sites) many North Americans are disappointed with their travels to Italy.

"Because [North] Americans go all over world," explains professor Costa, "and they expect world to be a copy of United States. They want to travel world and have everyone speak English and serve you hot dogs in street."

After completing our course in Florence, my friend Mariangela Tagliabue (a third-year Italian major) and I spent next three weeks of our trip travelling along Northern part of Italy, but first spent four days in Rome, la città eterna, ("the Eternal City"). Rome is much bigger than Florence, so most of our getting to-and-fro was spent squished into backseat of tiny little cars, careening dangerously around a city where streets have no lanes and traffic lights are purely decorative.

While in Rome, Mariangela and I had opportunity to meet Pope John Paul II. We sat through an outdoor mass in St. Peter's square, just four rows away from now-ailing Pope, and when mass was over we were ushered into a lineup of people for a brief encounter with him. We weren't prepared to meet him and quickly turned to person behind us and asked what we should say to him. What, after all, do you say to Pope?

The man, stifling laughter, gave us a formal phrase to repeat: "Sua Santita, prega per noi" ("His holiness, pray for us"). As we were approaching, Pope was wearing red velvet slip-on shoes. When it was our turn, one of Pope's aides that stood alongside him signalled us to approach quickly and kneel before him. Mariangela promptly stepped forward, but I stood just a few feet before him, transfixed by majesty of this man, clothed in ornate robes and much larger than I had expected him to be.

Kneeling before him, a small cluster of papparazzi stood alongside us, snapping photos. In between all of camera flashes and noise and Pope's aides surrounding us, we were face to face with one of most famous men in world.

We were frozen. We held his soft hands (I actually wondered what kind of moisturizer he used, and whether or not he applied it himself) and he cupped our cheeks. We mumbled ceremonial saying, unmoving. But when our time was up and his aide took my arm, I quickly added something that I knew my boyfriend would appreciate: "Luigi says hi!"

If not for pictures, I doubt anyone would believe us.

From top of city, you can admire all of Chicago’s greenery, there are several major parks spread out across city. Grant Park is known as Chicago’s front yard, because it’s situated right on waterfront. Lincoln Park contains world’s largest free zoo.

After walking city on our first day, my boyfriend decisively declared: "Chicago does everything big!" He was right. Chicago has largest aquarium, largest public library, largest candy factory, largest food festival, largest collection of impressionist paintings outside of Paris, longest street, and of course, tallest building in North America. The Sears Tower is 110 storeys, and 1353 feet tall.

But we didn’t see any of these things.

Because there’s so much to see and touch and hear and taste that unless you’re on a rigid schedule, it’s impossible to see everything. We shopped along Chicago’s "Magnificent Mile," a stretch of higher-end shops along Michigan Avenue. We started at one end of street, where we got a bird’s eye view from 94th floor observatory of John Hancock building. After dinner, we rushed to other end of Mile, where we hopped onto a speedboat for nighttime, picture-perfect view of Chicago’s skyline from 500 metres offshore. And don’t listen to what tourist guides say; view is definitely better at night.

We watched fireworks flash and flicker from our 25th floor hotel room. We ate deep-dish pizza. We walked along lakefront towards world’s largest illuminated fountain, Buckingham ("Married with Children" fountain). We rode on Navy Pier’s Ferris wheel, and gazed at city lights that twinkled 150 feet beneath us.

"It is hopeless for occasional visitor to try to keep up with Chicago – she outgrows his prophecies faster than he can make them. She is always a novelty; for she is never Chicago you saw when you passed through last time." Mark Twain was right. I look forward to my next trip to Chicago.