Europe in a Minute

Seven days, five countries, one minute. A Mediterranean cruise becomes a rapid montage—Sorrento's marina from above, Barcelona's Gothic Quarter and Gaudí's unfinished spires, Mallorca nightlife in neon bloom, Marseille Cathedral bathed in golden light, the Leaning Tower against gray sky, Florence's terracotta rooftops, and Rome's Colosseum at golden hour. A first trip to Europe compressed into sixty breathless seconds.

It begins with an apartment building somewhere in Italy—cream-colored walls, green shutters, the kind of facade that looks like it has been there for centuries. Then the view opens up: a marina seen from above, white boats packed so tightly into turquoise water that it looks almost impossible. The ship appears, its railing cutting a clean white line against the deep blue of the Mediterranean, and suddenly the journey has started. Spain comes next. A narrow alley in Barcelona's old quarter, stone walls pressing in from both sides, a football jersey because of course. Then Gaudí's cathedral rising against an overcast sky, still unfinished after all these years. The island arrives in a burst of color—balloons, neon lights, the blur of nightlife in full swing. France brings golden light streaming through the striped marble columns of a cathedral in Marseille. Back to Italy: the famous tower, tilted just like the postcards promised. A view of Florence from a hilltop, terracotta rooftops stretching toward a hazy cathedral dome. And then Rome—the Colosseum bathed in that perfect evening light, a Renaissance square with a statue of an emperor on horseback. Seven days, five countries, countless moments compressed into a single breathless minute.