Leaving Florence After Only 40 Days

By Maggie Mansfield

A personal account of a Marist junior and Marist Circle print designer in her junior year study abroad session, interrupted by the outbreak of COVID-19 in Italy. We have invited contributing students in our community to write about their unique experiences with the COVID-19 outbreak. We invite you to contribute as well. If you are interested, email us at writethecircle@gmail.com.

I had been looking forward to spending a semester in Florence for months. I had been abroad for the spring 2019 semester, and instantly fell in love; I knew I had to come back. I did everything right, planning my schedule meticulously and taking both a summer and winter class in order to have enough room left to take another semester abroad. I had everything in order- trips planned, plane tickets booked, suitcases packed. Never had it cross my mind that I would be back in America less than 40 days later. 

Marleah Dentes (left) and Maggie Mansfield (right) pictured on Piazzale Michelangelo, “the night before we were told to leave.” Source: Taylor Sedlazek

The week leading up to my departure was a blur. I received countless texts and questions from family and friends asking if I would be coming home. American university programs were pulling their students one after the other. The chatter from my professors was constant concerning COVID-19. Each thought it was just a bad cold, nothing to worry about. And although my professors seemed hopeful we would remain in session, the writing was on the wall that I might have to come home.

“I had everything in order- trips planned, plane tickets booked, suitcases packed. Never had it cross my mind that I would be back in America less than 40 days later. ”

On Friday, February 28, we were given the option to stay in Florence at our own risk or return home to finish online. I had every intention of staying to complete my coursework in Italy. I did not realize the severity of the impending situation. That evening, I enjoyed a beautiful sunset at Piazzale Michelangelo with fellow Marist students Taylor Sedlazek and Marleah Dentes. Little did we know what we would wake up to read. 

The last shot Maggie Mansfield captured of the Duomo in Florence, Italy on her way to the train station to catch her flight back to the John F. Kennedy Airport in New York. Source: Maggie Mansfield

On Saturday, February 29 at 12:48am, not even 24 hours later, we received a vague email saying the original offer had been redacted and we would receive more information about when exactly we would need to leave by. I woke up heartbroken and confused, but the message was clear: you will not be studying at Lorenzo de Medici anymore. 

The weather that weekend reflected the abroad students’ moods: rainy and cold. As the city became emptier each day, I made sure to squeeze in as much as I could. I went on solo expeditions to the Boboli Gardens, bought a panini from All’Antico Vinaio, sketched Benvenuto Cellini’s Perseus in Piazza della Signoria, and said a prayer inside Santa Croce. My roommates and I ate one last time at my favorite restaurant, La Spada, for our “last supper,” trying to keep things light and happy when inside we were full of disappointment and grief.

Attempting to leave Italy no easy feat: tickets for planes home skyrocketed in a matter of hours. Hundreds of dollars quickly shot up to thousands. Marist allowed each student a small travel stipend to help with the journey home. I traveled alone by train from Florence to Pisa, took a flight to Dublin, stayed the night and finally touched down in the John F. Kennedy Airport the next afternoon. I was shocked that at each travel point I was hardly screened at all for any sign of the virus. “Have you been to China or Iran? No? Do you feel okay? Great, right this way.”

“‘Have you been to China or Iran? Do you feel okay? Great, right this way.’”

I was confined to my room for two weeks of quarantine with only my dog and Netflix to entertain me. The only place I wanted to be was in Europe. As I write this piece, I was planning on being in Paris, London and Edinburgh for spring break with my roommate. There were so many trips I was looking forward to: Springfest in Munich, Iceland with my friend visiting from home, Slovenia by myself, wine tours with my roommates, and so many more trips missed.

Maggie Mansfield in Cortona in February. Source: Maggie Mansfield

I am happy to be healthy and safe at home, but there seems to be some irony in being told to come back to America to avoid getting sick when the place I have returned to now has even more cases than the one I traveled from. My story is one hundreds of thousands of students can attest to. My second time in Italy was supposed to be even better than the last, yet now I am stuck taking online courses from home. I received full credit for the meager four weeks of coursework from abroad, but fulfilling the requirements for my major and actually learning the material are two very different things. This is the reality of my semester, spent home and away from all my friends in an effort to stay healthy in this trying and difficult time. 

Although I cannot redo my semester abroad for a third time, it is my intention to return to Italy for spring break or a post-graduation vacation. Florence will always have a special place in my heart. I know I will gaze out from the top Brunelleschi’s dome again one day.