It is so hard for me to comprehend when I actually get to see in person the artwork that I have spent so much time studying. In Padua today I got to see the Scrovinngni Chapel and there is no way I can describe how beautiful it is... it is beyond words. I wandered the streets of Padua and came across a Donatello statue just sitting in the middle of a square. One of the masterpieces of the early Renaissance is now a pigeon home... I'm still struggling with whether or not I like this... I mean there's something to say about leaving art in public spaces so it can be enjoyed and admired outside a museum atmosphere but I'm afraid that these beautiful works of art may not be around for my grand children to enjoy. I read in a newspaper that Italy spends twice as much on its football teams than it does preserving and restoring its art and historical artifacts... It seems like such a shame. I thought for sure I was going to miss the train tonight from Padua to Florence, I got lost and showed up at the station 20 minutes late but since all the trains in Italy run late, I was actually early. Thank God! I had to change trains in Bologna and I ended up on the wrong train. I knew that I had made a mistake the moment I started walking down the train and saw that there were no other tourists, but it was too late to get off! An older man noticed my confusion and offered to help. He showed me how to pull out the seats in the isles since the rest of the train was packed and then asked me where I was going. He told me that the train was full of Sicilians coming home after summer work, apparently the train was heading south to a port city. He told me that the train was heading towards Florence but it wouldn't be stopping there but that I could get off at a nearby stop and take another train into the city. Thank God the Italians are so nice, I'm sure that if I had gotten on the wrong train in any other country I wouldn't have received so much help. As I made myself as comfortable as possible in the flip-down isle seat, I heard a boy singing a Simple Plan song. I smiled at him and asked him if he liked Simple Plan, and he was so shocked and responded in Italian "I don't speak English". Then he turned to the girl sitting next to him and started jabbering in Italian. I decided now was as good a time as any to practice my Italian, so I pulled out my phrase book and began asking him questions. After a few terrible attempts he must have realized that his English was much better than my Italian and we began talking and were joined by the boy's sister and another guy. Using a mixture of Italian and English I learned that their names were Vincent (12 years-old), Michael (20 years-old), and Francesca (8 years-old). Pretty soon everyone was leaning out of their compartments listening to the conversation and trying to help with translation. The entire situation was incredible! Getting on that train was probably the best mistake I could have made...