I also think there is a reason why these trips don't happen all that early in your life. I mean, it would certainly change my perspective on a lot of things if I had always been a world traveller. Differences in cultures and people that I meet would not seem so strange. I would have been more aware of cultural differences and more references to the other way things could be done. But, as I said, I think there is a reason this doesn't happen early in life. I would never have appreciated those differences if I grew up in that lifestyle. I would never have noticed the differences if I had always been used to them. And what's more, I probably wouldn't have enjoyed my trip as much as I did. Being able to experience a new place is what travel is all about, and I think that my sister and I did a good job of experiencing Italy.
I got home about a week ago from my two week extravaganza and have had some time to enjoy the sweltering heat and humidity of Michigan and look at some pictures in a nostalgic way. There's also a certain joy one gets when going into Pier One and seeing places you've been in the example photos in photo frames. (True story.) It's also a little crazy (frightening?) to think of how fast we fall back into our habitual routine of waking up, eating, going to work, and slowly trudging through our day. However, that little extra you take with you from each vacation always manages to stick with you. Those cappuccinos and delicious meals will never quite leave my palate and those images will never quite leave my mind, no matter how many traffic jams I sit through and how many familiar walls I stare blankly at day after day.
I can see already that two weeks will not easily fit into one blog post, so here is part one of my journey to Italy, complete with some insights and feelings a week or more after reaching some clarity in my mind.
I left Detroit on the morning of July 4th. However, in truly American fashion, I managed to find myself in a 6 hour layover in Washington DC. While I probably could have found my way downtown to marvel in our monuments, I opted instead to learn the ins and outs of Dulles Airport. If you ever need help getting around or finding a good restaurant, I can help you. I grabbed my last American meal at Chipotle and found a good bench to curl up on for some napping. Naturally, at 3 in the afternoon sleeping is hard to come by. And being the people-watcher that I am, it was difficult to sleep. So I finished 'Catcher in the Rye,' a book that (unbelievably) I have meant to read for many, many years. Overall, I enjoyed the book and see its appeal to all kinds of people. I also realized how many literary quotes one of my good friends uses in everyday speech. (A real gentleman and a scholar, he is.)
Anyway, I managed to wait out the layover and board the largest plane I've ever been on. It was a 777 with 2 seats on one side, 5 in the middle, and 2 on the other side. A 2-5-2 I call it. I settled into my aisle sit next to an Italian mother and her little one. The ride was great and the landing was exceptional. When we landed in Rome at around 8:30 the plane hardly jiggled as we landed on the runway.
I must admit, during the landing sequence, I was quite disappointed with the view out the window. Leonardo da Vinci Airport is about 20 miles outside of Rome in a field. So, you don't see much besides fields out the window, when you're kind of hoping to see the Colosseum and Ancient Rome and the like. Plus, it was foggy and a little rainy, but hey, with only fields to see who cares.
I must admit, it was slightly surreal to be getting off the plane and seeing Italy. The map showed I was there, the language indicated I was there, but there was little to show me that I had really made it where I wanted to be. However, I vaguely remember getting on a tram and venturing to passport control and the baggage claim. Passport control was the biggest joke I've ever seen, as I walked to a man in a booth who did not even look up, but simply waved me through as I flashed my passport. For all he knew, it was a small leaflet in the shape of a passport, but nevertheless, I cleared customs and ventured into Italy.
I should share the story about my bag. I decided that rather than lug a suitcase around Italy, full of hills and cobblestone streets and crowds, I would use my aforementioned friends' backpack to haul my stuff. In most cases, I was happy I did, but on hot days when my back got super sweaty, I regretted it. But that's not until later. To send my bag over the ocean, I strapped the bag together in the rain jacket and secured it with bungie cords. The cords, engineered by my father were tight as they could be and securely positioned over every inch of the bag, securing every strap that existed, and making the bag what essentially looked like a cocoon. I could have certainly smuggled a body into the airport if I wanted to (and I don't think security was checking) but I didn't want to deal with the dead weight (pun intended.)
When I arrived in Detroit, the United attendant promptly asked if 'those were bungie straps,' which they were and offered a gigantic bag to put my bag in. This perpetuated the cocoon shape and feel of my bag, which I could no longer strap on my back without essentially unwrapping my backpack. Therefore, when I arrived in Rome, I had an oversized bag, but I didn't know this. So, as I waited at the baggage carousel and watched as people reunited with their friends, I sat contemplating whether I would be purchasing a new wardrobe later in the trip or immediately.
But, according to the laws of freaking out, my backpack was in fact off the plane and in the airport around the corner on the floor. Yes, because I had an oversize bag it was thrown haphazardly beside a different baggage carousel still maintaining its cocoon shaped form. Like any good boy scout, I saved the wrapping and stowed the bungies before throwing on my pack and hiking out the arrivals doorway. When what to my wonder eyes should appear, but my sister whom I hadn't seen for half a year!
We hugged and smiled and I pretended to be coherent and awake while I exchanged some money and purchased a Roma pass. Somehow I ended up at the train station where my sister and I purchased our ticket to the central station in Rome, and voila! my Italian adventure officially began.
It was raining slightly as we rode the train in, grinning and smiling and trading travel stories. My sister stayed in a shady hotel near the airport and had some tales of trying to actually get to the airport, while I had my stories of the layover in Washington. However long the ride took, I don't really remember. It was 3:00 a.m. to my body and I had only slept a few hours on the plane. However, when the train stopped, we got off and found our way to a taxi stand.
We found one, hopped in, and took off toward our hotel in the midst of morning traffic in Rome. I know the extreme lack of space, crazy traffic circles, and old buildings are a staple of Europe and always a little difficult to adjust to as an American, but all of that on top of little sleep and seeing your sister for the first time in 7 months was a bit overwhelming. All I could do was put my complete faith in a taxi driver who admitted that he knew very little English. However, the fact that he could tell us that he knew little English was far more than we could have done in Italian so we took that as a plus.
The hotel was around the corner, a nice little place with an open lift and a winding spiral staircase that would have been elegant with a little more space. It may have also been a little more charming had we not arrived with a protest taking place outside our door. I later discovered that we may have been staying next to the Ministry of Finance in Rome, which if you follow any European economics, you may know that Italy is close to having some financial troubles similar to Greece and... well... the United States.
At any rate, we managed to find our room, unload our stuff, change our (read my) stinky clothes, and take off for the day. With Rome at our fingertips it was really a matter of where we wanted to go and figuring out how to get there. So, we looked at the amazing landmarks and decided to do a little walk over to the Vatican, hitting as many other places as we felt appropriate.
Our first walk in Rome was met with honks, screaming vespas, and tons of bikes and pedestrians on narrow roads. In fact, it was a lot like the rest of Europe. My sister commented that unlike others she saw from the States, I was not in complete awe of the norm. I really had no answer to this. I suppose it was still surreal to me that I was in Europe and in, of
all places, Rome, but I wasn't overwhelmed by the new surroundings. I had been to Europe and I was more excited to see my sister and catch up than anything else.
As we walked we passed all kinds of places and chatted about the latest happenings in my life. I had some new developments at work, Mom and Dad were doing well, and Andrea had completed a few trips to France, and Spain before flying to Rome to meet me. We very suddenly, as you do in Rome, appeared in a piazza with an obelisk and some building of importance. And after a few more steps, we turned a corner and ran smack into Trevi Fountain, one of Bernini's most famous fountains filled with grandeur, awe, and lots and lots of tourists.
It was here that we saw some artwork on the street. The artwork was nice, framed in simple mattes, but still nice to look at. The artist told us he had painted the works and we leafed through the artwork to find a purchase. Mistake number one of travel. Never purchase the first thing you see. First off, you have to carry it with you the rest of the day. And when that day is the first day of travel, you have to c
arry it with you the rest of the trip. Secondly, we were told the paintings were one of a kind. Naturally, we were duped. After we enjoyed Trevi Fountain in all its elegance, we turned the corner to find more of the 'one-of-a-kind' paintings.
To satisfy our appetite and escape the throngs of people, we found a pizza place on the corner and chowed down on some delicious pizza before setting off across Rome. By this time, the sun had returned and the temperature was rising. Both of us had thrown on jeans and the sweat immediately began to pour. It ain't pretty, but it happened a lot on this trip. We wandered around until we ran into the Pantheon, which according to Tom Hanks in 'Angels and Demons' is the oldest Catholic church in Rome. It's old, that's for sure, but incredibly well-kept.
As far as Rome goes, I think the Pantheon was my favorite place. The piazza was filled with restaurants and the church itself was incredibly impressive. Once again, despite the size of the relic, it really does sneak out from behind the corner when you're approaching.
We saw the occulus and Raphael's tomb and once again escaped the crowds of people coming in. We continued our trek across Rome, wandering by accident to Piazza Novana, home to
Bernini's Four Rivers fountain and another lovely piazza filled with restaurants and tourists. We finally turned North toward the river and wandered once again until we found a bridge to cross the mighty Tiber and venture toward Vatican City.
We passed Castel St Angelo and began the walk up to St. Peter's Square and the basilica. After doing some reading, I learned that the reason there is a gigantic boulevard leading to the
square is because of this guy named Moussilini, not sure if you've heard of him. Yeah, the facist dictator. Yeah, he made this grand entrance to the Vatican which is indeed impressive, but not quite as impressive as the original design that organized the crazy roads surrounding the square. Nevertheless, I found the walk to the Vatican slightly breathtaking despite my lack of loyalty to Catholicism.
We walked around the square absorbing the humbling power of the columns surrounding us an
d admiring the obelisk in the center. Eventually, we decided to wait in line to go inside the Basilica. Thus began the next difference between America and Europe. When we arrived at the metal detectors we barely stripped down or emptied our pockets, both set off the metal detector, and yet no one batted an eye. In fact, I'm pretty sure we were wished a good day. Atany rate, we got some good pictures of St. Peter's Square and in turn the inside of the Basilica. Again, I'm not Catholic, but that place is certainly impressive to the max.
We ended our day with a gelato and a walk back to the hotel where we found a little bit of dinner, some excellent pasta (what else?), and turned in early for the long day of traveling. I'm told I snored (which I do heavily when I'm really tired)
, but I must say I felt incredibly well- rested the next morning. I was so tired I could barely comprehend that I was indeed in Europe for the next two weeks.
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