Italy: the adventure

When Katie and I were in Valencia together, we talked about various travel plans for our upcoming breaks. She mentioned that she was headed to Florence, Italy for the early December puente (puente, meaning bridge, is used to refer to extended holidays. Dec. 6^th and 8^th are national holidays in Spain, so most/all schools and businesses took the 7^th off as well. Add a weekend to that and a Friday that we both had off from teaching, and you have almost a whole week free! Take THAT, people who had Thanksgiving breaks! :-P). I wasn’t quite sure what my plans were for the break, but I had such a fun time with Katie that I was hoping a trip with her would work out. I did more research on Florence and plane ticket costs, and the trip was sounding more and more exciting and doable. Yay!

My main concern was to book the flights as soon as possible. Ryanair, the cheapest and most common airline in Europe, has many great deals, but you have to take advantage of them before it’s too late. I also found out that I could fly out from Lleida rather than Barcelona. Lleida’s airport is new and very small, and it sounded way less stressful to go to the very familiar Lleida rather than stressful BCN for the first flight. Also, nothing flew directly to Florence. Lleida, however, went to Milan, so that seemed like a reasonable plan. And guess how much the ticket to Milan from Lleida cost? NINE euros! Seriously! I was like, dude! I can afford this! :-) Of course, tack on a few random fees and a luggage fee, and you no longer have a €9 ticket, but it was still quite reasonable. The Lleida airport is so small that it’s only open a few days a week, so I bought a ticket from Milan to Barcelona for the return trip. I’d essentially have to do the same process I did on my first day, and it also seemed like a good way to get used to the Barcelona airport more. I’m sure I’ll be using it again in the future!

Then came the complicated stuff. I needed a hostel in Milan, a train to Florence, a hostel in Florence, a train back to Milan, another hostel in Milan, and then a way to get back to the airport. I booked the same hostel for both Milan trips to make my life less confusing, and I ended up booking a different hostel than Katie’s for Florence. Both times we’ve traveled together, we end up in different hostels! :-) But the one I found offered female dorms for a reasonable price and seemed fairly close to the city center and the train station. The train tickets were actually more than both flights, but what can you do? Anyway, I eventually had the main stuff planned and was looking forward to the trip!

But as I started looking more into the details of how I’d get from place-to-place, I realized that everything was more complicated that I expected. That particular Milan airport (Bergamo/Orio al Serio) is an hour away from the train station and hostel! So I organized a list of transportation I’d need:

• Train from Montblanc to Lleida
• Shuttle from Lleida train station to airport
• Fly from Lleida to Milan
• Shuttle from airport to Milan train station
• Transport from train station to hostel
• Hostel
• Transport from hostel to train station
• Train from Milan to Florence
• Find Katie and find hostel
• After Florence, take train from Florence to Milan
• Transport from Milan station to hostel
• Hostel
• Transport from hostel to train station
• Shuttle to airport
• Flight from Milan to Barcelona
• Train from airport to a main Barcelona train station
• Train from Barcelona Sants station to Montblanc

And all this for someone who gets easily confused with public transportation! Haha! But I knew everything would be worth it, and I just took it one step at a time.

I left on Friday, Dec. 3^rd, and for whatever reason, I ALMOST missed the train to Lleida. A fine way to start my journey! I then hung around the train station all morning, waiting for the shuttle bus to come. The trip to the actual airport was about 30 minutes, and I realized that the new Lleida airport was in the middle of nowhere. Hee! But it was a great location for an airport because there were just fields and fields and fields. It was beautiful! And the airport itself is very new-looking and clean, and very, very, small. Like you couldn’t take it seriously kind of small. So cute! Way less stressful than dealing with crazy Barcelona! Anyway, this airport only has connections to four or so locations (Milan, Frankfort, Palma, and, weirdly enough, Barcelona), and for an airport, it was very low-key and not crazy busy. The whole process went very smoothly, and I didn’t even have to take off my shoes for security! :-)

The flight went well, but it was weird not having assigned seating. With Ryanair, you just sit wherever you want! Of course, I picked a window seat. :-P The hardest part, ironically, was trying to understand the recorded messages and the flight attendant in English. Why? Did they have a thick Spanish or Italian accent or something? Nope. They had Irish and British accents! :-) I’m pitiful. I can pretty much pick out British accents by now, but Irish and Scottish accents are like...huh? So I just hoped that they weren’t saying anything especially important (and sometimes things were translated into Italian, which seemed silly to me since 95% of the people there spoke Spanish and Catalan). They were also CONSTANTLY trying to sell you stuff. Magazines, lottery tickets, charity donations, smokeless cigarettes (say whaaaat?), and then the typical food. I bought a candy bar called “Bounty” because the price was fairly reasonable, and I was curious what it was. It’s almost exactly like a Mounds bar! It’s been forever since I’ve had one, so it was gooood. :-) I also loved the view out the window. Ocean, snow-covered mountains...sigh. Beautiful. And of course there’s the fantastic feeling of being way up in the air and surrounded by clouds! The experience never gets old for me.

I spent probably 5 minutes total, if that, in the Bergamo airport. We were hustled out of the plane, and getting my bag was really easy. We then walked out of a security area (since it’s under a domestic flight, I didn’t even need to show anything. No passport stamp, but no stress either!), and right in front of my face was a sign for shuttle bus tickets to Milan. Yay! I bought a round-trip ticket, which was a good deal less expensive, and we were soon herded onto a bus and on our way to Milan. It was early evening by then, and I was shocked how early it turned dark. Ugh. This was going to be a creepy trip finding my hostel!

The bus dropped us off at what seemed to be a really random spot, and I wasn’t even sure where the train station was. I just followed the crowd. :-) We were actually dropped off along the side of the station, so it wasn’t long before I was safely inside the HUGE Milano Centrale station. It looked so cool! My main focus, however, was finding either public transport or else a taxi to get to my hostel. I opted for a taxi. :-) The driver dropped me off by the hostel door of Hostel Galla and was on his way. I made it! Yaaay!

The guy at the hostel was one of the nicest people I’ve ever met at a hotel or hostel. He was the stereotypical Italian, too! Just picture in your mind what an Italian guy with a moustache sound like, and that’s what he sounded like! He asked if I spoke Italian, which I didn’t, so our conversation was half in Spanish and half in English. I was all ready to collapse on a bed in my 4-bed, female-only dorm when something I didn’t plan on happened. He apologized and told me that he gave my bed to a girl who was traveling with three other friends. He didn’t have the heart to break up the four girls, so he asked if I minded sleeping in a mixed dorm. For those of you who aren’t aware of hostel arrangements in Europe, there are typically three options: mixed dorms (guys and girls in one room with either bunk beds or else individual beds—this is always the cheapest option), female-only dorms (occasionally, there are male-only dorms, but it’s very rare), and private rooms (the most expensive). Since I can think of few things more awkward than being in a mixed dorm, I’ve always been very selective about hostels and rooms. Now what? The nice moustached Luigi-looking guy put his hands together and practically begged me to accept a mixed dorm. I asked if there were any private rooms, quite willing to pay extra if needed. There weren’t. It was either a mixed dorm or else try to find...who knows what, who knows where! I also had about 15 seconds to make a decision since he was staring expectantly at me. It was already really dark, rainy, and creepy outside. Plus, I’d be in this same hostel a few days later and really wanted to understand how to get to and from it without worrying about another location. Ahh! Not cool. Notcoolnotcoolnotcool! I accepted. What else could I do? He lit up and gave me a cheaper price and then showed me around. The room itself was really nice, with three beds and a lampstand in between each one. The guy then told me that there was only one guy staying there that night. Great. Awkward city! Fortunately, the guy who was staying there had his stuff on the bed waaay on the other side of the room, so I just chose the other bed waaay on the opposite side. Convinced that I’d encounter some drunk guy stumbling in the room at 3:00 in the morning, I trudged to a nearby Carrefour supermarket to buy a snack and some water.

I bought a 6-pack pastry thing that was basically like hamburger buns with chocolate chips. Odd, but pretty good. I was determined not to spend too much money in Milan and save it for Florence. Anyway, I was eating the snack when the other guy came in the room. He introduced himself, stayed on the other side of the room, and was extremely polite the entire time. Whew. Still awkward, but doable. He was from Brazil, lived in Illinois for several years, had a sister who was married in Italy, and was currently backpacking around Italy/Europe. After a few minutes of chit-chat, he went to bed before 9 and proceeded to snore the rest of the night. Okaaaay. Once again, an iPod make everything more bearable! Oh, and I also received a text message from Laura wishing me a safe and pleasant journey. Aww!

I woke up and was ready to go by 7 the next morning, and even though I felt a little bad for making noise trying to get my things together, I just wanted out of there before I started shrieking, “Cooties!” or something. I trudged down the steps to the reception desk, assuming there was a place they could store my luggage until I was ready to leave, and a very sleepy guy (the brother of the nice Luigi guy) said I should leave the luggage in the room. Wait. I have to go back in there? Noooo! I stalled and asked for a map, which they didn’t have. Hmm. This was going to be interesting. I wanted to see the duomo (cathedral) since I had several hours before my train (I mean, I should do SOMETHING interesting while in Milan, right?), so I asked about tourist info offices and metro stops. He rambled off directions, and I thanked him, put my luggage back in the room (sorry, Mr. Brazilian guy, for waking you up yet again!), headed out in the rainy outdoors, and still had no idea where to go. Heh. I wandered around for awhile, hoping to be inspired by something, and I eventually asked a guy at a newspaper booth if he knew where a tourist information office was (they’d have maps). I started the conversation asking if he spoke Spanish (I couldn’t fake enough Italian anyway!), and fortunately, he did. He asked if I was Spanish and was surprised to find out that I was American. Good, I guess? Anyway, either he didn’t understand me or I didn’t understand him, because I still saw nothing like a tourist office anywhere. Sigh. No reward is worth this! I then saw a place where taxis wait to pick up people. Yes! Not caring that it would cost extra, I took a taxi to the cathedral. So worth it! I literally gasped out loud when I saw it. It was beautiful. A glorious contrast to the otherwise ugly Milan. It was free to enter, and it was even prettier inside! Unfortunately, we couldn’t take picture inside. :-( But I still had a good time, and I enjoyed wandering around the main square near the cathedral as well.

But I still really wanted a map of Milan! I hate being in a new place without a map, and I’d have to do the same stuff all over again after Florence. Determined to get one, I went down to a metro area and asked someone at the information desk. He only had maps of the metro, which I took one, but he said that there was a tourist office near the pharmacy. Okaaay. I went back up the stairs, saw two different pharmacies, did NOT see any tourist places, bought two postcards (one of the cathedral, and one of Leonardo da Vinci’s famous “Last Supper” painting that’s in Milan. I didn’t get to see it, but I have a postcard of it! :-P), took some pictures, and still had no idea where to get a map. Crazies! I finally asked the security guys near the cathedral entrance, and they directed me to a random building nearby. Sigh. I trudged over there and was about to go inside when a random guy said I couldn’t go in (at least, that’s what I THINK he said! :-D). I asked (in Spanish) if they had maps, and he said no. Grrrr. I thanked him, gave up, and took another taxi back to the hostel.

This taxi driver, unlike the previous two, spoke some English and was VERY talkative. He wanted to hear my Spanish pronunciation, of which he approved, and then proceeded to talk the entire time in English. He had a pretty good level of English and was just really fun. I asked him what the best part of Milan was (secretly thinking the city was blecky), and he frankly told me that he hates Milan and wants to leave. :-P Haha! He liked the swimming pool, but that was about it. He also really wants to travel (especially to New York), and was complaining that his family goes to the same vacation spot every year rather than seeing something different. We talked about everything from cowboys, if Americans are nice, teaching English, how to pronounce English words with “h” (some are silent, some aren’t), to how people spend too much time on Facebook. He also loved that I was calm and not like other tourists, yelling at him to hurry up. As he dropped me off, he proceeded to write down his name for me to add him on Facebook (like THAT’S going to happen, dude!) and said that he’d call me “teacher” and ask me how to say different things in English. A little creepy, but I think he meant well. It was just nice to see a friendly face!

I then went back to the hostel to get my luggage, saw the happy Luigi guy (his name isn’t really Luigi though :-)), and told him I’d be back in a few days. He was waaay more helpful than the other guy, and with him, I found out that a tram stop is really close and goes to the central station. Yay! No more expensive taxis!

Getting the tram was easy, and I was soon back in the train station waiting to go to FLORENCE! I was so excited! I also had time to find the place where the tram leaves to go to the area near the hostel AND where the shuttle buses are that head to the airport. I’d be well prepared for my trip back to Milan, which was a great feeling. And guess what? I found an information desk in the train station and got a map! Finally!

I chose a window seat when I bought the ticket online, but a woman asked if we could switch sides so she could be with her husband and young children. Not wanting to break up a family, I said yes, so I had an aisle seat. Not a big deal, but the guy next to me kept getting up (meaning I had to get up as well), and when he later left, another guy took his seat (meaning I had to get up as well). This younger guy, for whatever reason, wasn’t supposed to be there, so after another stop, he had to get up (meaning I had to get up as well) and let a different woman sit next to me. Whew. And all of these mini-conversations took place in Italian. I actually could follow it! Then the woman next to me started talking to me in Italian. Uhhh...I picked up the general flow of the conversation and made all of the “Uh-huh. Ohhh...uh-huh” noises in the right places. She was nice, but she also kept getting up (meaning I had to get up as well). She finally offered to have me sit at the window seat (yes!), which I quickly agreed to switch. She also accidently spilled a little juice on me, but it wasn’t a big deal. :-) We both got off at the Florence stop, and I was finally off the train and looking for Katie.

Katie was waiting for me, and it was so good to see her again! We went to my hostel (Ciao Hostel) first, and I was weirded out to discover a sign that said “To check in, please call this number.” Huh? Katie said just to buzz the buzzer doorbell thing, and the door quickly opened. The reception guy was there, showed me the room, gave me a map (yay!), gave me keys to both the front door and my room, and said that I was the ONLY person staying in the female dorm. Yes! It was a spacious room with regular beds rather than bunk beds, and I was delighted to get some privacy for the same price as a dorm. Katie and I were soon off to go to her hostel.

She wasn’t able to check in earlier, but as is the custom with hostels, she left her backpack with them. When we got there, she couldn’t find her bag. The guy wandered off to do something or other, and we were both digging through a pile of backpacks trying to find hers. We were both concerned that it was stolen, and I could see the worry on her face. But when the guy came back, he said that it was put in her room. Whew! Everything was fine, and we were once again on our way to explore beautiful Florence.

And the city truly is beautiful. The main areas are all within walking distance, and it just feels safe. The duomo (cathedral) turned out to be the perfect meeting spot for us every day, and I have to say that as amazing as the one in Milan was, the duomo in Florence was even better (on the outside, at least!). It was huge. There was also a lovely Christmas tree (actually, the tree was our meeting spot) right next to the cathedral, and the whole area was just so...cool! We ate some calzones (the first real meal I had had since the airport in Lleida!) and did some hardcore sight-seeing. We wandered around, looking in shops, admiring the beautiful architecture and city, talked about how cold it was, and just basked in the Christmasy feel of everything. What a lovely time to see Florence! Christmas lights were everywhere. So pretty! There are several “main” art museums to see in Florence, and rather than do alllll of the main stuff on day 1, we focused on the Academia—what I would consider to be the most important museum. Why? Michelangelo’s famous David statue is there! Awkward naked statue that it is, you just can’t go to Florence without seeing the David statue! Annoyingly, you couldn’t take pictures at all in the museum, but we did have a good time there. Obviously David is the highlight (it was set apart from everything else), but I also really liked a room full of statues and figurines. Almost at the same time, Katie and I thought that room reminded us of the scene in the newer Pride and Prejudice movie (not as epic as the 1995 mini-series, but okay) when Elizabeth Bennet wanders around Darcy’s mansion, staring in awe at the statues. You know, that long, drawn-out scene? Well, this was almost like it! All we needed was the music. :-) I felt all artsy and historical.

The David statue was quite impressive. It was huge! There are several replicas around, but this was the genuine, made-of-marble statue. Wow.

The rest of the museum was okay, but it was just your typical Renaissance art. I mean, it’s fascinating, but after you see so much of it, it’s more or less the same (coming from a non-artistic person, that is). Fortunately, Katie and I look at art museums in pretty much the same way: stare at a few especially neat works, glance at the rest, rarely read the signs, and are soon ready to go. Yay! No art nerds with this pair! Haha.

We later had ice cream and did some more wandering and sight-seeing, and I was tickled to find a Christian bookstore. Yay! We popped in, and I was surrounded by Piper, MacArthur, Bibles, tracks, and everything—in English, Italian, and a little bit in other languages. I didn’t buy anything then, but I knew I wanted to come back!

That evening while looking at a store with Katie, I also got a phone call from over-protective and wonderful Javi. Apparently, there were strikes in the airports all over Spain the day before. He wanted to make sure I was okay, and I was grateful for his concern...and REALLY grateful that out flights didn’t have strike problems!

Speaking of strikes, we saw some sort of weird water strike that night as well. People were marching around with goofy faucet things on their heads, playing drums and shouting. Okaaaay. Welcome to Europe, where strikes are everywhere!

The next morning, Katie and I met by the Christmas tree, ate a pastry, and then were headed to another important art museum to see. There seemed to be ANOTHER strike or something going on, but we just pushed passed everyone and headed to the door. Then we saw the sign. Guess what? All of the museums were closed that day and Tuesday (and are normally closed on Mondays anyway) due to strikes. All of the workers were on strike! Agh! Now, having seen a British mini-series (yes, I watch too many of them) based on Elisabeth Gaskell’s novel “North and South” (about England’s Industrial Revolution...NOT the Civil War!), I always feel a bit sympathetic towards strikes. I can’t help it. And sometimes, I think they can be good. But seriously, there are waaay too many in Europe, and I don’t even know if they accomplish anything. So there we were. Staring at each other, disappointed and a little frustrated that we wouldn’t be able to see any more museums during our time in Florence. But we were extremely grateful for one thing: we saw the Academia and David statue the day before! That would have been a major let-down not to go there. But on the bright side, Florence is beautiful with or without strikes, and we still had plenty to do.

We climbed the bell tower (over 400 steps) and saw a fantastic view of the city, ate REAL Italian pizza, saw the famous “Old Bridge,” ate REAL Italian pasta (I had chicken alfredo), had more ice cream (:-P), bought some souvenirs, and went to the basilica where famous people like Galileo, Michelangelo, and Machiavelli are buried (epic!). It was in the basilica when a woman came up to me with her eyes all lit up and greeted me like she knew me. I quickly tried to place where I had seen her before, and then I remembered: she was the chatty lady on the train who spilled juice on me! We happily greeted each other, and I had to explain to confused Katie who she was. Now, I need to take a rabbit trail for a minute...

I think there’s just something about me that must glow “I’m friendly and interesting to talk to!” because wherever I go, people just start talking to me. The woman on the train to Valencia, a nice older man on the bus from Tarragona one time (that was fun! He loves history and politics, and he also loves the American Civil War. His favorite side, minus the slavery, is the South.), and just a myriad of people who talk to me in English, Spanish, Catalan, Italian, whatever. I’ve helped a woman at the library figure out the computer, two classmates from Catalan class have seen me in Montblanc and talked to me, a woman on a train once talked to me even though I had an iPod on, etc. etc. It’s hilarious.

So anyway, Katie was marvelling again how people just seem to know and talk to me. I don’t even do anything! They just start talking to me and decide that I’m nice or something. The woman in the basilica also introduced me to her daughter. :-) I love nice people.

The next day was my last day in Florence, and I was all prepared to check out of my hostel. Reception hours are advertised as 9am-10pm, but I’ve never seen anyone there at all since my first day. I waited around for about 20 minutes, a little annoyed that no one was there, and I finally sent a text message to Katie saying that we should meet a little later because no one was at the desk. I was worried that she wouldn’t get it in time, so I quickly wrote a note to the reception people, mentioned that my bags were still in my room and that I’d be back to get them later, and then hesitantly left the keys there. I was a little worried that I wouldn’t be able to get in later, but I didn’t want them to charge me for an extra night or anything. Plus, the front door never seemed to be locked anyway. I then charged out of the door and hurried to meet Katie. Both of us were dealing with some sinus issues due to the weather, and poor Katie had it worse than I did. She had been waiting by the tree for over 10 minutes in the rain, and I felt so bad for being late! I explained the situation, which she was perfectly understanding about, and we were once again ready for adventure until I had to take the train later that afternoon.

We went to the Mercado Centrale, which was pretty neat and reminded us a lot of the one of the markets we saw in Mexico. We had a pork sandwich that was really good (Katie wrote to a mutual professor of ours that we were going to Florence, and he said that she should write to a certain professor to get advice on where to eat. He had some great recommendations!). We also saw the inside of the cathedral, which was okay, but not NEARLY as cool as the outside. I will say that the inside of the cathedral in Milan was much more detailed and interesting. But it’s all great! We saw the baptistery as well, which was beautiful, and we did more wandering, shopping, picture-taking, and talking. We also went back to the Christian bookstore, and I bought a small Italian NT/Psalms Bible and picked up some (free!) tracts. Oh, another fun thing we did one day was to go to another market of sorts that was selling all kinds of Christmas stuff. Fun! We also tried some chocolate-covered fruit. Katie had a banana, and I had a pear. A chocolate-covered pear! :-)

I had such a good time both with Katie and in Florence in general, and I was a little sad to leave. Katie would be there an extra day and was planning on taking a trip to Pisa since all of the museums were closed down anyway. Anyway, by 3:30pm or so, we parted ways, and I headed back to my hostel, hoping there wouldn’t be problems with my luggage.

I saw a supermarket along the way, and I decided to buy some more tissues since I pretty much used up all of mine, having no idea how many I’d use. :-P It turned out to be a rather long wait, and I was impatient to get my bags and head to the train station. I was finally on my way to the hostel again!

And then what I dreaded came true. No one was there AND the door was locked. I buzzed every single buzzer I saw, but to no avail. I shook the door like one of those annoyed teenagers who shake vending machines that don’t work. Gah! This can’t be happening! What should I do? I called the number advertised to check in, but it didn’t work with my phone. I think I tried almost 10 times! :-) I then tried the number on my hostel reservation, but that didn’t work either. Time was ticking. I really had to get my bags so I could catch the train. With my heart pounding faster and faster, I tried calling Katie (not like she could do anything anyway!), and that didn’t work either. I kept trying to calm down, reassuring myself that I still had plenty of time and that God was in control. I stood out there in the rainy weather for a while longer, staring desperately at anyone walking by, and finally, I headed to a fancy hotel that was fairly close. By then, I was shaky, nervous, and on the verge of tears. I tried to calmly explain the situation to the very, VERY nice reception lady (who, thankfully, spoke English!), but I could hear my voice shaking. I wasn’t going to cry in front of her or anything, but I couldn’t control my voice. It was a weird feeling.

She called the number I shoved in front of her, and someone answered right away. She explained the situation in a way-too calm and professional manner, hung up, and told me that someone would be there in 10 minutes. By then, it was about 4:20. My train left at 5, and it was a good 10-minute walk to the station. Okay. I think I can handle this! I thanked her profusely, and she even offered to let me stay there while I waited. I sat down for about 3 minutes, but I was way too antsy. I left and stood by the hostel door, watching time tick away. 10 minutes passed. More than 10 minutes passed. No sign of anyone. Nooo! I thought about going back to the nice hotel lady again, but I wasn’t even sure I’d have time for that. I debated which was worse: leaving without my luggage or missing my paid-for and somewhat expensive train. I figured that I REALLY needed my luggage, and if worse came to worse, I could always try to get another train. Maybe. I paced around, rubbing my forehead, feeling more and more hysterical as the minutes ticked by.

Finally, around 4:40, a guy came. I could almost see an outline of wings on him and was sure he was an angel sent by God. :-) He greeted me, giving me an odd look as I just stood there hanging around a hostel, and I quickly asked if he was the reception guy. He gave me another weird look and said that no, he’s just staying in the hostel. Wait. This isn’t even the reception guy?? Regardless, he had a key! I then started babbling incoherently about my problem, saying that my train leaves at 5 and no one is in the hostel. Angel Guy still looked pretty weirded out, gave a vague reference that yeah, things are different here, aren’t they?, and proceeded to unlock the front door. I’m pretty sure he thought I was crazy. :-) But by then, I sooo didn’t care. I charged in, realized that the door to my room was locked, and then did something that I would never do in a sane moment. I went behind the reception desk! The guy was giving me creeped-out looks as I shuffled through a pile of keys and notes that I’m sure said something like “Reception people: you weren’t here when you were supposed to be, so here’s the key. Have a nice life,” and I happily found my key. I pulled it out of the pile with a half-insane “Ah-HA!” and Angel Guy quickly pulled out a cell phone. Whether he was trying to act like he wasn’t watching me, was about to call the police on this crazy girl, or else was just about to call a friend...I’ll never know. I ran to my room, unlocked the door, grabbed my luggage, shut the door, threw the keys on the desk (Angel Guy was gone by then), charged out the front door, and ran like a madwoman to the train station. Seriously, I think it was the fastest I’ve ever ran, especially with a backpack, duffel bag, purse, and a bag of tissues on my person.

I made it to the train station 10 minutes before the train left, red-faced, out of breath, praising God, and close to passing out. EVERYONE on the train was giving me looks like, “Whoa, lady! What happened to YOU? Are you okay??” :-) I sat down in my seat with a huge sigh of exhaustion and relief. Cutting it close, but I survived. Yet another one of those “Thank you, Lord!” moments. He sent Angel Guy to the hostel and helped me run faster than I ever have before. Whew. Ohhh, the stories I can tell when I’m old...

Compared to that situation, everything else was a breeze. I was once again in Milan when it was dark and rainy, but this time, it didn’t seem creepy at all. It actually felt a little Christmasy because it snowed earlier, and this time, I knew exactly where I was and where I needed to go. Plus, I had a map! :-) I bought two tram tickets, took the one I needed, knew exactly where I needed to get off, and was soon in Familiar Hostel Land of Hostel/Hotel Galla.

Friendly Luigi Guy recognized me right away, asked how my time in Florence was (I just talked about the good parts!), and said that no one else was in my room, so he was going to give me the private room. Yay! Another night without other people! Thank you, God! The room was lovely and spacious, and I was especially glad to be alone because I’d have to get up really early the next morning. Like 5:00 am kind of early. Yuck. Luigi Guy was aghast at how early I’d be leaving and said that there would be another person at the desk at that time, so he wanted to wish me a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Aww! He was such a soothing balm for my stressed-out soul.

I headed to a pizza place around the block, which is run by Chinese people who speak Spanish in Italy. I love it! There was hardly anyone there, and I once again ate REAL Italian pizza in Italy. I then headed to the conveniently-close Carrefour store once again and bought some more water and a snack for breakfast the next morning.

I was ready to leave around 5:30 the next morning, met a new sleepy-but-very-friendly reception guy, and was waiting by the tram stop, ready to catch the 5:48 tram. I even got to the station in time to catch the 6:00 shuttle bus to the airport! So by 7am, I was back in the Bergamo airport. I did all of the Ryanair and plane things I needed to do, went through security (this time with my shoes off), and eventually waited around for my flight.

The flight back went really well, but there was one problem. I was soooo tired. For the second time in my life, I slept right through the take-off. Nooo! I love take-offs! I mean, who does that sort of thing? I slept through most of the flight, which is disappointing if you love flying, but also helpful if you’re exhausted and hate getting up at 5:00 in the morning. :-)

Then I was back in the Barcelona airport. Good ol' confusing, massive BCN airport. I didn’t see a sign for where the luggage was dropped off, and I saw one arrow pointing to A, and another pointing to B. Hmmm...which would you choose? I chose A. Bad idea.

I walked a good 10 minutes before I saw a board that said my flight’s luggage was in B. Oh, well. More exercise, right? :-) I wasn’t in a hurry, so I wasn’t too concerned. I found my luggage and was once again in the biiiig terminal I was in on my first day here. This time, I knew what to do! :-)

I took the train from the station to the Barcelona Sants train station, bought a ticket, hung around, and then took a train back to Montblanc. By late afternoon, I was back home. Tired, happy, relieved, and glad to be back! Of course, I also saw Mouse #2 that evening...:-P

And that was my trip to Italy! Crazy, wonderful, stressful, cold, strike-filled, and beautiful Italy. I truly had a good time and am glad I went. I’m also really glad Katie and I could meet up again! And once again, I see God’s provision and care all along the way.

But let’s just say that I’m sticking to hostels and hotels with 24-hour reception now...or at least keeping my bags with me! :-)

Sorry for the crazy-long post, but thanks for reading!

Ciao,

Sarah :-)