When I was 15, I went to Italy with a group of the Latin students from my high school. I had promised my mother and teacher that I would not ever, ever wander off by myself.

As one of two boys on the trip, I spent far too much time with the girls. Shopping, people watching, etc. In Florence, I made a bargain with them that I would meet back up with them at some set time and that no one would say anything about our agreement.

The first thing I did was to make a bee line to the Duomo to explore the crypts and bell tower. I didn’t do too much urban exploring given the labyrinthine nature of streets in medieval cities, but I did make the best of the Duomo. Little did I know.

Twenty years later, I still enjoy going off to explore strange places on my own—even if it means leaving my wife to her own devices away from home. I follow my muse of exploration, even if only for an hour or two. Now I find I am teaching my daughter.

The Duomo was my first taste, and so it holds a dear place in my life.