A Roller Coster of Emotions

Well I made it to Florence and survived my first day. A long day… that started on August 29^th at about 10 AM – the last time I actually woke up from a night of sleep- until now, 3AM Florence time.

My last few days in St. Louis were spent packing, packing, healing from sickness, packing, and buying a new camera. The night before I left for Italy my dad and I headed out about 7:30 PM in the search for me to buy a new, upgraded camera. My dad is the type of guy that likes to spend 3 months and hours researching to buy a $400 camera. However, I like the deadline of having one hour until store closes to get the feel of the camera and make a decision. So against his better judgment, we go to Best Buy on the search for a nice camera for me to travel the world with. With 20 minutes to close I narrow it down to a Nikon and Cannon – both about $450- that have everything I want from 32x optical zoom to panoramic photos. On a whim I asked the Best Buy clerk if they had both in stock. It turns out they didn’t have either and no stores in the area would for a few days. I know my dad was thinking, “This is what you get for procrastinating”. He didn’t know how determined of a shopper I was. I whipped out my smart phone and started googleing each camera and where they could be bought. As he drove home I finally found that the only place they were was the Target by my house and “limited stock available”. Giving it a shot we drove to Target. They had both cameras on clearance for about $300. Oh course I choose the one that was the pretty red but had been returned with the wrong charger so they couldn’t sell it. Not to fear- this just so happens to be the same charger as my old camera AND I got 10% off for the inconvenience. Now that’s how I shop.

With all excited about my new camera and the fact that I was leaving for Florence in less than 24 hours, I didn’t fall asleep until about 3AM and woke up every hour thinking about what Florence was going to be like. After maybe 4 hours of sleep total I decided to get up and finish getting ready. I’m in foyer, ready to leave, and spend the next half an hour tying to figure out how to make my checked baggage weigh exactly 50 lbs and my carry on weigh supposedly 25 lbs (which was never actually weighed) and still have everything I need. Finally, I say goodbye to Simba and TJ and head out the door.

I get to the airport and see Laura, who had already checked her bag problem free and was waiting for me. I print my boarding passes and the computer will only print one from Detriot to Paris and two from Paris to Florence. Clearly needed to get from STL to Detroit this wasn’t going to work. Challenge #1. At the Delta desk the agent couldn’t get the boarding pass to print either and called to have it fixed. My luggage sat on the scale varying from 50-51 lbs depending on where you were standing. I assumed that wouldn’t be an issue- but just in case I made everyone stand still when it hit 50. The man was on the phone for about 15 minutes until he found a way to print me ticket. I knew this could be solved shortly and wouldn’t really be an issue, but when a piece of paper is standing between me and Italy, I was getting a little antsy waiting for the golden ticket.

Everything was a go! Now we just needed to get some Euros. Challenge #2. They were out of Euros- fine, we will get them in Detroit.  Laura and I headed to security, said a heartfelt goodbye to our parents- and we were off to Italy! We waited, talked about where we were thinking of traveling, waited, soaked up our last few hours of texting, and finally boarded our plane! This flight was short and not a problem. We finally got our Euros (at a ridiculous exchange rate) and had our last American meal- hamburger and a philly cheese steak sandwich. After waiting, meeting a young couple traveling Italy for their honeymoon, waiting, and 3 hours later we left for Italy. We flew Air France with mostly French passengers and I got many chances to ease drop and brush up on my French. I was very shocked with how much I remember from 4 years in high school (where I was quite possibly the worst French speaker in class). This flight was long. I watched Midnight in Paris (recommended by Paige Brown) with Owen Wilson and Rachel McAdams which was a great, great movie. At the pasta dinner, drank the endless free wine… and champagne. The lights were dimmed and everyone around me went to sleep. I was determined to sleep so that my jet lag wouldn’t be so bad. Epic fail. I tried to sit in every position possible in the tiny chair and could not possibly fall asleep. After hours of trying I gave up and turned the TV back on. I played some games, watched some TV, and hoped the flight was almost over. Challenge #3 – my sore throat from a few days ago came back. Now it was impossible to sleep and I was on the search for water to drink and warm water and salt to gargle. I got water and attempting to nurse my throat to health. Many hours later we finally landed in Paris.

Paris is a mess of an airport. I had forgotten that America was the only place with the fancy terminals that you walk right off of into the airport. In Paris we landed in the middle of a concrete lot with nothing around us. We got off and saw some shuttles and bag dollies that took us to the airport. My first impression here was watching a man drive a bag dolly and cut a corner to sharp and derail the door of a shuttle. The glass shattered everywhere and that shuttle was down. Luckily our shuttle was the one ahead of that. We loaded the shuttle person to luggage full and headed on a very frightening drive to the main airport. This driver was a huge fan of his brakes and accelerator for no apparent reason. He was the only one on the roads but he felt the need to whip around corners and slam on his brakes quite often. When I noticed the Parisians were also finding this ridiculous I was a little relieved that this wasn’t normal European driving. At the Paris airport I find a cup of Tea which makes my sore throat a lot better. Due to the lack of seating we met two American couples around the age of 60 that were touring Europe. The two guys were brothers and they were following the path that their dad had taken in World War II. They were very nice and wished up well on our adventures. This next plane was tiny and filled up about halfway with Florence travel abroad students. Everyone I met on the plane was going to CES, another school in Florence I had never heard of. This plane flew so close to the ground and I was lucky enough to have a window seat to see up fly over France, the Swiss Alps, and Italy –very neat.

 Plane landed and our luggage also made it to Florence. We followed the signs to SAI and found a tiny 9 seat Taxi that was to take us to the SAI office. We loaded in there and he packed it up with as much luggage as he could fit. All but 3 bags- on of them my big suitcase. Assuring us that he would get them on the next round and the SAI agent was never leaving her spot on the sidewalk we headed to office. He was also a crazy taxi driver, but nothing I hadn’t seen in Chicago or New York. We got all checked in, got our cell phones, apartment keys, and were on our way. I went out to the luggage and my big suitcase still wasn’t there. Challenge # 4. The SAI staff that was outside directing us in assured me that the taxi man just dropped off the second round of luggage. Mine still wasn’t there. “Impozzible” she kept saying. She called the SAI staff back at the airport and she said there were no more bags waiting. So she called the Taxi’s- the next one had some bags. It pulled up- not my bags. Then the next taxi- not my bags. Everyone from my group had already left and were back at their apartments by now. “Impossible, there is no way the bag could have disappeared” she kept saying. Clearly it did. I had my bag, I left it with SAI, it’s gone. She took me to Cammile, our main SAI contact while in Italy, and she was great at assuring me another student took it back accident and it would show up. She got down all of my information, the bag description, asked me if I needed anything for tonight, told me she would send a mass email to all students asking I they took a bag by accident, and that SAI would help me out if it didn’t show- lots of free shopping. As great as free shopping sounded I starting trying to remember everything that was in my suitcase and the tears started coming. I know it’s just stuff but I hadn’t slept in a long time and hadn’t cried in months. I rarely ever cry but sometimes something little will trigger it and there is no stopping it. They say you’re supposed to cry every one and awhile to clear out the eyes anyway, right?

They were about to send me to my apartment when another taxi man calls and says a student grabbed the wrong suitcase and he was on the way back. He said it was big and dark blue. This had to be it. And it was!!! I was sooo very relived. I finally make it to Via Dei Pepi, my street, and arrive at the big green door. I unlock that and find the steps to my 4^th floor apartment with my two, very heavy, suitcases. I made it one floor before this strapping young Italian man comes down the stairs and said “Would you like some help?” “Sure! Thank you so much!” is what I said although I was really thinking, “Hell yes, I love you.” He asked if I was a sudent and where I was studying. By the time I made it to the 4^th floor and barley had time to thank him, he was gone. I later found out that he was our internet man that I had just missed hooking up everyone’s computer and phone to the free internet, so I guess I’ll be seeing him again soon. I take out my very large castle key (as I like to call it) and try to open the door, I fail. I always seem to have trouble opening doors and the very old, large Italian door is not an exception. After many attempts I give up and just knock. All of my roommates had already arrived and were anxiously awaiting my arrival so we could get groceries and go to dinner. I was a sweating mess and started telling them all about my lost luggage and flights like they were my friends back home that I’ve known forever. Then I realized this was my first impression and was slightly embarrassed. Oh well, they had no apparent problem listening and getting me excited for the rest of the day.

We traveled down the street a short ways and found the market and got a few staple groceries and household objects. Then we left on our adventure for dinner. One my roommates, Alyssa, has a sister that previously studied here and recommend Ristorante Acqua AL 2. We walked in circles trying to find this place and asking many Italians where this street was. After our unexpected tour of Florence we find the restaurant, that doesn’t open until 7:30, about 20 minutes from then. So we sat outside and chatted. This restaurant was talked up to have “the best balsamic filet, blueberry filet, and pasta sampler and was very fair priced. At 7:30 we entered and the place was very cute. I am going to be spoiled by the restaurants here in Italy. Our waitress was great and helped our out with the menu. I was really craving some pasta and spinach so I decided on the spinach and ricotta cannonli which was very good. The rest of the table ordered the pasta samplers, salad samplers, and balsamic steaks. The pasta samplers were definitely the way to go. They were the chef’s choice and they brought them out one at a time and served them family style. I will definitely be getting that when I go back. I tried a bite of the balsamic filet, which was amazing. That one bite was the perfect way to end my meal. The HRA girl in me was very impressed with the presentation, décor, the little monitor of the kitchen they had displayed, and the excellent service – especially in a culture where the servers don’t work for tips. The dinner was a perfect first meal in Florence and well worth the adventure getting there.

            We take the scenic route back to our apartment so we can see the Dumno up close and walk through the pizzia’s. We get back to our apartment and I realize I still haven’t opened our door. My roommate already had it open so they all went inside and I stayed out to try and open the door. I put the key in and turned (apparently the wrong way) but the door didn’t open. So I turned the other way, and back and forth and any other possible solution. Fail again. So I knocked and my roommate came over to open it from the inside. Fail. She turned and twisted and pulled. Fail. Everyone else came over to attempt and also failed. Challenge # ??. Were we really going to have to call SAI and tell them we were locked in and out of our apartment. What a flipping joke. Finally they got it open. Still didn’t solve my problem of not being able to open the door. So we turned the knob until we realized that you can double lock it from inside. So we got it back. I went outside, put in my key, turned it once to the left, and success. Finally.

I finished unpacking and was very exhausted and wanted to go to bed so that I was on Italy time. I sleep for 4 hours and an now wide awake. What a mess. And my sore throat is back. Later today I will venture out to the pharmacie and attempt to buy sore throat medicine. I’m sure this will happen trouble free- right?

I’m back on top of the rollercoaster. My apartment is great (more to come on that later), I’m excited for orientation, to rome the city, Florence is beautiful, I love the atmosphere, and it’s only day 1.