For anyone who has endured the
trials and tribulations of dealing with 3 or more connecting flights, I commend
you. Going from Tampa to Chicago,
Chicago to London, London to Rome, then from Rome to Florence definitely ranks
in the top 10 longest 24 hours of my life.
After Melissa, Sammy, and I embarked
on our journey out of the states, it all went down hill. We lost Melissa in the
airport in London for a good hour. Fortunately, we ran into each other within
the massive maze of restaurants and commercial stores. When we arrived in Rome, we had to make
our way to the train station that was located a good 30 minutes from our
airport and some how get on the correct train to Florence. A gypsy tried to
help us as we stood in front of the big digital screen that contained an
endless list of locations, times, and platform numbers. We finally ended up on
the right train with our immense amount of luggage trailing behind us. There
were stares and foreign exchanges from all the Italian’s on board at the sight
of three American girls almost on the verge of tears from overwhelming joy. We
were on our end route to Florence at last.
When we arrived at our home for the
next four months, we were greeted by 15 or so strangers. We were just in time,
for they were just about to leave in search of a nearby restaurant for dinner. Everyone
decided on a pizza place that was a block away from our apartment. Only two men
were working that night, one cook and one server, so we could tell by the look
on their faces that they were not prepared. Nonetheless, the food was certainly
satisfying.
After a long day of traveling,
sitting down to some Italian pizza, red wine, and good company was the perfect
way to kick start the semester. I enjoy looking back at that night, the moment
in which the adventure truly began.
Taken just as we were about to fly over Lake Michigan on our way to Chicago
The wonderful eggs benedict Sammy and I had in the London Airport
In Rome as we drove to the train station
On our train to Florence
Florence at last!
