Florence is, above all, Medieval. Its buildings are not the warm terra cotta of Rome, but the grey stone of Tuscany. The center of the city, in addition to being tiny, is a maze of medieval streets and cobblestones, made even grayer by the rain. The people of Florence are a very cosmopolitan bunch, being as they are at a world center of fashion. The food of Florence is nouveau or traditional, but never both; there is expense, and there is frugality, and they rarely coincide. There is tremendous pride in Florence, a city that was a center of more recent history, the Renaissance. It was, like Italy has been in general, awe-inspiring.

But one night, while sharing a few drinks with an American friend in an Irish pub, I began to think of that awe. I have in my life lived in rural Maine, and urban Washington D.C. and Providence. I know places like New York, where modernity permeates every aspect of life. The smell of urban air like that in Washington is familiar to me – sounds like the squeaking of the metro, the sight of light reflecting off giant glass skyscrapers, the matte mood of concrete parking garages and suburban sprawl. That, of course, is why the sight of something so exotic as Florence or Rome brings that feeling of awe.

People, it occurred to us, live in these places that seem to us pure fantasy. There are children, adults, and old men and women in Florence and Rome. Life goes on. We wondered whether or not being surrounded by such things that we call great art and impressive ancient monuments makes Italians take such things for granted. Having seen large Florentine school groups over the weekend in the various galleries, I can say with some certainty that this is so.

But – and here's the interesting part – what happens when these same Italians who know only their world of ancient architecture, Medieval cities, and Renaissance masterworks, come to our place, come to Washington D.C. or New York. No doubt, they are as awestruck with our world as we are with theirs. Imagine having grown up with only tall buildings made of age-worn stone, and then seeing for the first time buildings ten times taller made of shimmering glass. Or imagine never having seen or even conceived of something like Time Square, or the Empire State building, or modern art.

As the cider lost its fizz on the table and the conversation bubbled over, we both saw that as small as the world has become, it still is a vast, awestruck place.