Midnight in Paris

I can't make up my mind about Paris. I've been to the city three times, and while I have had some very memorable and enjoyable times in the city, my overall experiences haven't been anything super fantastic (and they're supposed to be... It's Paris for goodness' sake!). I will admit that I love the beauty of the city that establishes its renown - the famous landmarks, the romantic atmosphere, and the eclectic crowd of people that roams about the streets - but yet there's always something that seems to thoroughly disappoint me while I'm there. Unfortunately, my third trip to Paris this year to participate in the epic New Year's celebrations I've heard all about only confirmed my record that things never go quite right in this city.

Since I knew I would be in Europe for the New Year again this year, I immediately began searching for another epic place to celebrate. If you remember at all from my blog last year, I had quite the New Year's celebration in Rome and knew that I wanted to experience something just as fantastic, while having a new and different experience this time as well. My best friend Madeleine was also in Europe at the time, so we made plans to fly to a city and meet up to ring in the New Year together. We started brainstorming some cities and came up with London, Barcelona, and Paris, places we knew would have incredible celebrations. I was leaning towards London or Barcelona, but a few days later my best friend Rachel from back home called me and told me that her family was going to be traveling through Paris for a few days right before New Years, on their way to a week long trip in India. I mentioned Paris again to Madeleine and she seemed quite enthusiastic about going to the romantic city. The decision was made. We bought our tickets. And I was thrilled. 

After all, I was going to be in Paris with both of my best friends in the same week (although not at the same time), both of whom I hadn't seen in at least six months.

Hanging out with Rachel at the Eiffel Tower

Unfortunately, however, I should have taken note at the very beginning, before I even left on the trip, because that's when things starting going awry. About a month before the trip Madeleine informed me that her plans had changed and she was going back to the U.S. Although I still had time with Rachel and her family to look forward to, they were going to be departing on the day before New Year's which left me with no one to celebrate the New Year with.

Disappointment #1 – going to an epic city for New Year’s… by myself.

I thought back to the chaos and madness of Rome last year on New Year's and knew that there was no way I would survive the pandemonium of holiday celebrations in such a large city by myself, so I set out to do some networking to try and make friends before I arrived. I thought about the au pair network in Rome and Florence and assumed that there must be one in Paris as well, so I did some research on Facebook to try to find a group. Fortunately, I was successful and was able to get into contact with dozens of au pairs in Paris before I even arrived. And since the au pair community is very inviting and accepting, I had no problem making plans to meet up with them and join their celebrations on New Years. My solution was perfect: Not only would I not be alone, but I would be with lots of other girls just like me who were knowledgeable travelers, experiencing life in another culture, and living a lifestyle similar to my own. 

Thank you to this awesome girl for letting me join in on her New Year's plans!

I guess I should mention that this story isn’t entirely disappointing. There were definitely some great aspects to my trip that I enjoyed very much (like there always have been)… but the unfortunate events are just sad enough to share with you as well. 

Getting ready to go out

New Year’s Eve rolled around and everything was going as planned. I met up with some other girls at the apartment of one of the au pair girls I had been in contact with and we hung out and ate dinner together before heading out into the city for a night of craziness and chaos. At 9:00, we left to go walk to the Eiffel Tower and reserve a seat for ourselves so we could have a great view of the tower at midnight. Along the way, we met up with some other au pairs, increasing the size of our group to between 20 and 25. It was great - there was tons of new friends to be made!

This is only part of the group!

 Once at the Eiffel Tower, we quickly and easily found a place with a good view. Even though it was almost 10:00, there was almost no one there (this probably should have been another clue that something was not right…). We stood around and shared wine and champagne and snacks as we waited for midnight to come. And with 25 outgoing girls, we had no problem making friends with all the people standing around us! Over the next couple hours, the grass began to fill up, and people trickled in to find a seat amidst the crowd. Before I knew it, the entire place was packed and there were thousands of people all around me, staring up expectantly at the glowing Eiffel Tower, wondering what would happen when the clock struck midnight. 

Every now and then, someone in the crowd would light a firework, and a hush would come over the crowd as they watched in anticipation, hoping that more would follow. They never did.

After fluttering around among the groups and socializing with all my new friends, it dawned on me that it must be nearly midnight. In an effort to ring in the New Year the proper way, I started desperately searching for an unopened bottle of champagne, in order to pop it open right when midnight hit. Disappointment #2 – Everyone had already opened all their champagne and drank all of it before the countdown even started. I had nothing to toast to the New Year with! 

While we were waiting for midnight, I went on a search for a good location to shoot some photographs. I found a really good spot not too far from my group, standing up on a ledge that was already filled with a row of photographers. As I waited there, the crowd started to stir and I could tell something was about to happen. I didn’t want to be off by myself when the clock struck twelve, so I jumped down and rejoined my group of friends for the Countdown that I expected to happen any minute. I had no idea what time it was still, but was simply just following everybody else, and everybody else seemed to be ready for the celebrations to begin. As I surrounded myself with the group I was with, I realized that they were quite loud and animated…. a bit noisier than all of the other thousands of people around us. Suddenly, before I knew it, someone, somewhere starting yelling: 5! 4! 3! 2! 1! HAPPY NEW YEAR.

I was confused… the countdown had not been in French, it did not start from 10, and it was also not a community event. For some reason the Countdown had only happened within my group, while the thousands of people around us stayed silent…. 

Either way, we all kissed each other and said our rounds of Happy New Year and had some more wine (since there was no more champagne), but I didn’t stick around for long. As soon as I knew that it was the New Year, I jumped up immediately back onto the ledge where I had a great view to take some pictures. Staring through my camera lens, I realized the Eiffel Tower had gone from its normal yellow glow to a sparkly blue that twinkled against the dark midnight sky. A firework shot off next to the Eiffel Tower. I snapped a picture.

Random fireworks going off... but never any show!

Here we go. This is it… this is the fireworks show I’ve been waiting for behind the Eiffel Tower … the one where I’m going to get awesome pictures and where everyone in the crowd is going to go wild because they’re celebrating New Years in Paris and they’re so excited to be here!

I waited… and waited… and waited… The Eiffel Tower continued to twinkle. Another person set off a sad little firework. But there was no show. There was no music. There was no epic event to watch. There was not even any cheering and hollering. 

Someone in my group got confused and wasn't sure if it had turned midnight yet... so they started a countdown again. Once again... our group enthusiastically and boisterously counted down, while the crowd around us stayed silent, watching and waiting. This may have happened several times as we waited... I don't think anyone really knew what time it was ;-) 

We waited for ten minutes.

                 Then fifteen.

Where was the show?? Was something going to happen?

One by one, the people slowly turned and walked away.

Our group was in denial. "No... just wait a little longer. It just hasn't started yet!"

At 12:30, we decided it was probably time to leave. 

Disappointment #3 - Absolutely no celebration, no countdown, no fireworks show, no shouting...nothing. What happened, Paris?? Was I in the wrong location? Did I go to the wrong place? But I was sitting right in front of the Eiffel Tower! Surely there should have been something going on there!

Sometime, a good deal after midnight, making a toast with wine... not champagne

At least we had the rest of the night to look forward to, and we knew that we were going to have an awesome time dancing the night away. The metros were free all until the next morning, and most lines were open all night long, with only some closing around 2, so we knew we would have no problem getting around.

Wrong.

The entire crowd that was at the Eiffel Tower, plus probably the entire rest of the city, decided to come out onto the streets right after midnight. To be honest, it was actually pretty fun walking through the buzzing city in the middle of the night, meeting and observing all the different people from all over the world, and grappling through the crowd on our way to the metro station, alongside everyone else who was doing the same. We tried with all our effort to keep our large group together, but with more than thirty of us (the group grew while we were out), the task proved almost impossible. We finally succeeded in reaching the metro station where we planned to take it to are  with all the nightlife, and I reached in my purse to grab my iPod and see what time it was.

It wasn't there.

Did I mention that I had been warned countless times about pickpockets and thieves running about in such chaotic crowds that night? I had known the risks of taking expensive things, but I figured I would just keep a close eye on my stuff and make sure no one snatched anything from me. When I found my most expensive item missing (it's also brand new), I did my best to stay calm and not panic. I thought there might be a chance that I had dropped it somewhere in the area where we were waiting for the nonexistant fireworks show, and since we weren't too far away yet, I figured I would just run back and look around to see if I could find it. Unfortunately, going back meant separating from my group in a massive mob of people and trying to find my way back to them later somehow. I knew it was going to make things difficult later on, but I had no choice but to go back and look.

Before we departed from the group, we discussed and planned to meet up at a pub on the other side of town, so I said goodbye, hoping to see them again soon. One of the new friends we made accompanied me back to our spot and all the while convinced me that I probably had the iPod in my purse the whole time. When we stopped and unsuccessfully searched the grounds for my missing iPod, I decided to prove that out of all the things in my purse, that the iPod was not there, so I took everything out one by one to demonstrate.

Hanging out with new friends

As I had said, it was not there. So we looked around some more until a sickeningly feeling began to creep into my stomach as the reality of the situation set in. I thought back long and hard to when I last had it, where I had put it, and what might have happened to it, and suddenly a thought came to me. I looked down at my purse once again and reached my hand into a massive hole that had recently formed on the side of my purse. Deep in the lining, all the way at the bottom, my iPod sat safe and sound.

It had been there the whole time, just like my friend had said. Disappointment #4 - Worried about an iPod that wasn't really missing and separated from my group for no reason at all. Although this time, it wasn't Paris' fault... just my own!

We quickly scampered back to the metro to see if we could get on one and meet up with our friends. It was packed. We literally couldn't move, and there was no possible way we could even get down the stairs to get on the metro. Our only other option was a taxi, so we set out to flag one down.

Impossible. Every taxi in the city was already taken. After attempting for almost 30 minutes to get a taxi, I finally gave up and said I was just going to brave the metro and push my way through. I said goodbye to our new friends and set off by myself to try to make it to our agreed destination.

It was insane. There were literally people everywhere, right up to the very edge of the platform. Fortunately, I'm quite good at weaving my way through crowds, so I nudged and pushed here and there and actually made my way onto a metro! A few stops later, I had to get off and change lines in order to get where I needed to go. I walked and walked and walked (or maybe it was more like ran and ran and ran) for what seemed like forever through the metro station to get to the other line, and I finally walked up to the entrance with a group of people. Right as I went to enter the tunnel that led to the metro I needed, a security man stepped in front of me and said "This line is now closed. It's 2 am. The metro isn't running anymore."

At that point, I was somewhere in the city with no clue where I was, alone, in a massive crowd of people, with absolutely no where to go for the rest of the night. (Did I mention that I didn't book a hotel or hostel that night??) The metro I needed was closed, and I had no idea how to get to where my friends were. With absolutely no other options, I put on my puppy dog eyes (more like the "I'm a poor American girl by myself that doesn't know where to go or what I'm doing" look) and begged the security man to let me through to the line I needed. Naturally, it didn't work. But I did succeed in getting him to take a minute to explain to me which lines I needed to take to get to my destination. At least there was a way to get there! A few more stops on the lines that were open all night, a few more changes, and I should be there in no time.

Of course, there was a massive line of people waiting to get on the line I needed because everyone else had been rerouted too. We waited for probably 20 minutes for hundreds of people to go up a single file escalator, and then waited even longer for the train to actually arrive.

When all was said and done, I finally arrived to our meeting point over an hour later, somewhere around 3 in the morning. I walked into the pub (that I miraculously found with no problems at all!), expecting to see all of my friends hanging out together. 

No one was there.

I searched downstairs on the dance floor, I walked all around the inside of the pub, I checked outside again. I couldn't find anyone. 

Right as I was about to freak out and give up on the night, two of the girls from my group walked in. Two. We chatted for a minute and I asked them where the rest of the group was and why they weren't there yet. They explained that apparently everyone had gotten separated while trying to get on the metro, and some people ended up going home, some people ended up trying to walk, and some people were missing and not answering their cell phones. We decided to dance and try to enjoy ourselves while we waited for everyone to get there. 

A little while later, we received a text from our friends that they were not going to come after all, but instead were going home. We tried to dance and have a good time, but by this point, I was just upset and angry. I had flown all the way out to Paris for New Year's Eve for this?? Nothing had gone as planned for the entire night and pretty much every single thing I had hoped for had disappointed me. Now it was the middle of the night, I was tired, stuck in a pub I didn't want to be in, and had no hope of meeting up with the girls that I had been hanging out with that night. Disappointment #5 - I never saw those girls again! 

I won't bore you with the details of the rest of the night because the only thing we spent our time doing was wandering, looking for food, waiting around, and trying to find the right metros. After saying goodbye to the two girls who had stuck around all night with me and after spending another hour wandering around, I finally made it back to the hotel where Rachel's mom was staying at 7 am and met her in the lobby as she was getting ready to take a taxi to the airport. Since she was leaving, she graciously let me nap in her room for a couple hours and shower before checking out of the hotel for her and getting ready to take my own flight later in the day. This was truly a lifesaver for me otherwise I would have been completely exhausted! 

When I woke up, I still didn't know what had happened to the other girls the night before and didn't really have any way to contact them, plus I figured they would be sleeping all day, so I knew I wouldn't be meeting up with them again before leaving the city (hence why I never saw them again). With a whole day to try to fill and absolutely nothing to do, I decided to walk. Paris is huge, and you can literally walk for hours and still only have seen a tiny part of the city. An hour or so into my walk, I noticed that all the shops and stores were closed and finally realized that it was Sunday. Upon that realization, I thought it might be nice to try to find a church to go to before heading back home. I remembered that there is an American Church in Paris that I learned about when I was in Paris a couple years back with Glowing Heart. We just so happened to meet the pastor of the church on the train while we were here, and he invited us then to visit his church if we were ever back in the city. Well, I was in the city, on a Sunday, by myself and with no other plans, so it was a perfect opportunity! I had just enough time to walk to the church and make it in time for the service!

The service was great and I was actually able to meet several people while I was there. Surprisingly enough, the pastor remembered me from two years ago and he and his wife prayed for me and my future and my travels. After such a disappointing and discouraging night the night before, I was quite refreshed and encouraged to finally have something good happen! 

I stayed a little too long talking to people at the church and almost missed my flight... but I ended up making it just in time. I don't think I could have been more thrilled to finally get back to Italy that evening though! It was so nice to finally be home... and get a chance to sleep!

When all is said and done, I still am quite disappointed about how the whole New Year's experience turned out, but I must admit... it was still an experience, and definitely one I won't forget! I guess sometimes things go great and sometimes they don't work out as well, but it's all part of what makes up the great story of our lives, and for this I can always be thankful! Who knows... maybe someday I might actually give Paris a chance again... maybe. ;-) After all, whoever said fourth time can't be a charm too?

New Year's Eve in Roma

For the past several years, I have had a bit of a problem making New Year's plans. It always seems to come down to 10:00 on New Year's Eve, and I am still sitting at home trying to decide where I want to go and what I want to do to usher in the new year. This year, it came close to happening again. It's not that I couldn't find things to do; I had plenty of options. I just couldn't make up my mind which celebration I wanted to join.

I've always dreamed about celebrating New Year's New York style, with massive crowds of people, tons of commotion, lots of action, and buzz throughout the whole city. I've never spent a single New Year's like this. Most of the time, I join friends for a quiet and laid back party in someone's house, and the most exciting moment happens when we all gather around TV and watch the ball drop in Times Square for the second or third time that night (depending on if I'm in AZ or TX), count down to the New Year, and blow horns and throw confetti when the clock strikes midnight. Sound familiar? That's all I've ever done really. But I enjoy it. Here in Italy, people traditionally dress up for New Year's Eve and either go out to a very fancy dinner (and by fancy I mean at least 100 euros per person) or get together with friends at a local venue or someone's house. I was invited to a small party similar to this, in addition to several other options: Zoila told me that they were having friends over on New Year's and I was welcome to stay, I heard about a party in a pub with the friends I've met in Foligno, and I read about an outdoor concert in the main piazza in Spoleto, a nearby town. As you can see, it was quite the decision to make. On top of all that, I knew that Rome is only two hours away and might offer the most exciting New Year's of my life.

I agonized over the decision for almost two days, going back and forth and back and forth (what a surprise...), until I finally spoke to my friend Jess in Rome. In a brief conversation with her (in addition to the suggestions of quite a few people on facebook), I was convinced that I should go to Rome to celebrate New Years like I never have before. And boy did I ever.

At around 4:00 on the 31st, I started getting ready for my busy weekend. Jess and I had planned to go to Orvieto (a town in Umbria about an hour away from Foligno) for a jazz festival that was going on that weekend. Going to Rome meant I had to pack not just for the night, but for the whole weekend, so I took my time, putting together all my necessities for a jam-packed schedule over the next few days. I knew I didn't want to miss my train, because that would mean pretty much missing out on New Year's, so i left a whole thirty minutes early to walk to the train station and buy my ticket. I was so early, in fact, that I even stood in line to buy my ticket, rather than using one of the automatic "fast" machines. I wasn't sure where to check to find out which platform my train was on, but I looked at the printed schedule displayed on the wall of all the train departures and arrivals, found my train and platform, and headed to Binario 4.

As I was getting on the train, I saw two girls about my age and asked them if this train was going to Rome. They replied yes, and we all got on and sat down. Sitting in the train, I noticed something a little strange. I knew that it was not going to be a busy night for traveling, since it was a holiday, but it seemed eerily empty for a train that was headed to Rome of all places. I waited for the train to leave at 6:30 and was quite disappointed when I realized it was 6:35 and hadn't left yet. As I was sitting there in the empty train wondering when it was finally going to leave, I looked outside at a couple platforms over. There was a ton of people standing outside and they all started cheering as the train arrived. I wondered to myself where all those people were going that they would be so excited about, and then leaned back in my seat and told myself to be patient for my train to leave.

Twenty minutes later, I was quite antsy that we were still sitting on the tracks and had now figured out that that meant I wouldn't be getting into Rome until nine instead of 8:30. My morale was quickly dropping. In confusion and frustration, I tried to ask the other girls what was going on and why we hadn't left yet. They were just as confused as I was, so they couldn't give me much of an answer. We spent about five minutes looking for a person to talk to and trying to figure out if our train was broken and delayed or even where it was heading. I'm not sure how the answer finally came about, but a few moments later my heart sunk when I found out what had happened: we were on the wrong train. I heard someone shouting about platform 2 and had the awful realization that the train that I had watched come and go with dozens of excited and rowdy passengers was my train into Rome, and it had left me behind for another two hours to miss out on my highly anticipated New Year's celebration.

By this point, I had been excited about New Year's in Rome all day and couldn't wait to finally get there. Once I got on the train (the wrong one), I had texted Jess that I was on my way and she said she would have a delicious dinner of pesto gnocchi waiting for me when I got there. I was thrilled, seeing as how gnocchi is my favorite pasta and pesto is my favorite sauce, and my grumbling stomach was anxiously awaiting the savory meal. When I found out that I missed my train and would now have to take the next train two hours later, I completely lost it. Maybe being around crying children all the time is rubbing off on me a little, but I could not stop the tears from flowing. I called Zoila and Aurelio in desperation, frustration, and a bit of hysteria, and they told me Aurelio would be on his way to pick me up from the train station so that I could come home for a little bit before my next train left.

I was home for a grand total of 30 minutes I believe, but I was very thankful for some loving words and helpful encouragement, along with a little food in my stomach, before Aurelio was kind enough to drive me, once again, back to the train station and escort me onto the correct train.

During my second trip back to the house, I grabbed my Italian book so that I would have something to read while I was on the train. I spent the two hour trip to Rome studying up on some Italian and trying to improve my very much lacking language skills. I think it may have helped a little :)

Once I got into Rome, I had to get off the train and take the metro to meet Jess near the Colosseum where she lives. I could not believe what I came across. I went into the metro to the place where you buy tickets to get on and couldn't even find the ticket booth. It was completely hidden by an enormous crowd of hundreds of people, all waiting in line to get onto the metro. I pushed, shoved, and fought my way through the crowd to try to get to the ticket machines, but ended up having to wait in line just like everyone else. By this point it was around 10:00.

I finally got a ticket, then braced myself to join the fury of the crowds as I fought for my spot on the metro. Several trains came and went before I found myself at the front of the line (although it was not a line, it was a mass group of mayhem) and was able to step onto a completely jam-packed, no-room-to-move, not-even-room-to-breath metro.

Fortunately I only had to go two stops, so I knew I wouldn't have to be stuck in the claustrophobic chaos for long. Unfortunately, everyone else only had to go two stops as well. The entire train exited when we got to the Colosseo stop, and the madness only seemed to relocate itself from the inside of the metro to the entire metro station.

Let me illustrate this crowd for you. High schoolers, twenty something year olds, teens... young people, groups, friends....yelling, shouting, singing, cheering, chanting.... champagne, beer, smoking, drinking, on who knows what.... drunk, high, buzzed, crazy.... excited, anxious, exhilarated... busy, packed, pushing, shoving, squeezing, moving, going, everywhere. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe. I simply rode along with the crowd, following wherever it led and wherever it would allow me to go. And it grew in intensity. I thought back to quiet Foligno and the empty train station there; I couldn't even comprehend that this was out in public, in the city, and there were this many people all doing the same thing and going to the same place at the same time. As I floated along with the crowd up the stairs to the entrance of the metro station, I heard a soft chant begin to echo through the tunnels. It gained more and more spirited participants until it became a full-on Roman cheer sung by all the drunken soccer fans that were using their popular cheer to unite the people of Rome together on this festive evening.

That was not the last time that night that I heard that song. But I didn't think much more about it because only a few minutes later, I bursted out of the mouth of the cave, running for space and fresh air, when Jess showed up without my even realizing it, grabbed my arm, and got me out of the pandemonium. We took a quick picture to document my official safe arrival into Rome, after hours of obstacles, frustration, and disappointment, because I had actually, finally made it!

We briefly stopped by her house so that I could drop off my bags and finish off the rest of the gnocchi, then we headed out once more into the hullabaloo on the streets. As we walked past the Colosseum, sparks flew, fire burst, and the sky filled with smoke and bright lights. It wasn't even midnight and fireworks were already going off all around us. Our destination was a concert by a famous Italian artist, Claudio Baglioni, that was taking place about a half mile away in the Piazza Venezia. We set out towards the Piazza but it wasn't long before we realized it was a futile attempt. The further we walked, the thicker the crowd got and the stickier the ground got from spilled champagne and beer. We weaved and swerved our way as swiftly and quickly as we could through the people, without much luck. During our journey through the crowded streets, we came across something strange. The people suddenly disappeared and the crowd dispersed, leaving a random clearing open in the middle of the street. Jess and I were quite ecstatic about a moment of fresh air and traffic-less walking, so we darted through the middle of the open circle to cut across to the other side of the street. Not a good idea.

The crowd...

...Followed by the random clearing

If you are ever in a war and there's an area that no one is walking in, surrounded by crowded streets, it's probably for a reason. It's likely to be a dangerous area, perhaps with landmines or hidden perilous devices. Don't think that a street festival in a large city is any different. Before Jess and I even realized what was going on, we heard cracks and booms next to us and saw lights sparkling at our feet, followed by immediate shouts from Italians who were clearly trying to get us out of the danger we had gotten ourselves in. Luckily we made our way back into the safety of the crowd and continued on our trek to the other end of the mile-long street. All the while, fireworks were booming in the sky, firecrackers shaking at our feet, and sparklers spewing everywhere. The thuds were so thick I could feel the earth shaking and the pounding in my chest when they went off. It was never clear where they were coming from either. We kept walking and every so often we would hear someone yell, see a bunch of people quickly jump out of the way, and then hear a loud bang.

Have you watched a war movie? Have you seen what it's like when there are air raids on a town or village? When all the people in the town are ducking and running for cover, and all they can hear are the booms and bangs of the bombs going off around them, not knowing where the next one will strike or how close it could be to them...? This is what I felt like. I was just waiting for the moment that a firecracker would go off right next to me or that I'd accidentally step on some ticking time-bomb and create a few more sparks than I really cared to see. I've truly never seen anything like it.

When we got about halfway to the Piazza, I turned and looked at Jess and said, "I don't think we're going to make it." It was 11:50 and at the rate we were moving, it would have been physically impossible to make it to the stage, dodging all the people and fireworks, in ten minutes. We decided to retrace our steps backwards, just a little, so that we could be a little closer to the Colosseum and park ourselves in a good spot for the count down.

We ended up next to a group of four Italian guys that were very happy to introduce themselves to us. We started talking and learning a little about each other when the madness suddenly became a roar and the tens of thousands of people on the streets starting shouting out, "Sette, Sei, Cinque, Quattro..." The Countdown had begun, and I was not prepared for it to be in Italian! I can count to ten no problem in Italian, but counting backwards is a whole different story. I pathetically and unsuccessfully attempted to join the countdown, but by the time I was able to think of the right number, the count was over and the New Year had begun! We yelled Buon Anno, gave each other Italian cheek kisses, and whooped and hollered that it was 2011. Then I started to notice a light mist. Champagne was pouring down from the sky, shot out from dozens of people all over the streets. The mist quickly turned into a downpour, and Jess and I were ducking and hiding behind others to avoid getting completely soaked. It didn't work. I thought I had successfully escaped the wine shower, only to touch my hair a few minutes later and find it completely drenched. It was quite unpleasant.

Since everyone else was enjoying Champagne toasts, I decided one was in order for us as well, so we found a vendor on the street that was selling it and bought a bottle. Now I have to set something straight - this whole time I've been writing, I have been calling the popular drink of that night Champagne. However, Champagne is from France. Here in Italy, Italians drink a similar drink, but it is not called Champagne because it is not from Champagne, France. Instead, it's called Spumante, although it tastes pretty much exactly like Champagne to me. That being said, we got a bottle and split it between the six of us, toasting off to the new year. They let me be the one to open it :)

After our toast and a fantastic fireworks show, the crowd actually began to clear out, for real this time, and Jess and I looked at our new friends to see what their destination was. They had no plans, and neither did we, so we all decided to be adventurous and have our first experience at a Rome disco. The metro was too crowded to get on, so we sat down on the steps of the Colosseum to wait. While we were waiting, we found out that our new friends are all in their first year of military training in a nearby suburb of Rome. They all had to work early the next morning, so I think they were planning on taking it easy that night. That didn't so much happen. :)

By the time we got to the disco, it was around 2 am, just the time that Italians like to go out at. It wasn't a very big place, but we enjoyed the lights and the music and spent the next few hours dancing away. When we walked out of the disco, I looked at my cell phone and was shocked to see that it was 5:00. At that point, Jess and I weren't sure how we were going to get home, since public transportation shuts down at night, but we figured it wouldn't be too much longer before the metro opened back up again for the morning. Our friends waited with us until they had to leave for their train at 6, and then Jess and I were left waiting indefinitely in the chilly morning light. To keep ourselves occupied in the meantime, we went into a cafe right by the metro station and asked them what time the metro would start up again. To our great disappointment and frustration, we were told it didn't open until 8:30, meaning we had been waiting there the whole time for no reason (mind you we were tired and very much ready for bed by 7:00 in the morning...). We resolved to call a cab, but one of the guys working at the cafe started telling us about a friend or brother or someone that he knew that was on his way back to the cafe and could take us to the Colosseum.

The guy seemed pretty nice and not shady or intimidating, plus we couldn't really figure out what he was trying to say, so Jess and I figured we'd sit and wait for this guy to come. We were told it would be twenty minutes, but I knew that in Italian time that could mean an hour. We really weren't keen on waiting, because we just wanted to go home, but we kind of felt expected to stay after his offer. After 20 minutes of waiting, the guy brought us free water and chips. After 40 minutes of waiting, Jess and I were upset. After 45 minutes, we told the guy we were going home, and he looked at us understandingly and said okay, sure, no problem. UGH. Our biggest fear had been not being able to find a cab and truly not having a way to get home. We walked out of the cafe, saw cab, got in, and were home in ten minutes. We had waited two hours to get home and we had only been a few minutes away.

We were exhausted and tired, but feeling a little bit awake when we got home because of our breakfast, walk, and the sun that was now rising and streaming through the windows. Our plan for New Year's Day was to take the 11:00 train to Orvieto, and considering that it was 7:30 by the time we got home, we knew that meant only two hours of sleep followed by misery for the rest of the day trying to wake up and stay awake. We didn't want to do it. We figured we would feel fresher and more energized if we just skipped the sleep altogether and got on an earlier train to Orvieto. Then we could get to Orvieto, figure out our plans there, and have time to sleep sometime later in the day.

Things never go as planned.

After showering and getting ready, Jess and I left the house 15 minutes before our train was supposed to depart. By this point, I have had more than enough experiences with trains and knew that we would most likely not make it with that little time. We tried anyways. To save time, we got in a cab. We told the cab driver to go as fast as he could to Termini station. As he was driving, we got stuck at a stoplight. At the stoplight, something pressed me to speak of my own experiences and how horrible it is to miss a train by five seconds...the amount of time that is spent at a stoplight or tying your shoe at home or getting out of the car...just enough time to run up to the train and watch the doors close in front of you. And I emphasized how one stoplight like that one can make you miss your train by mere seconds. When we got to the station, Jess paid and I ran out of the car to check our platform. There are over 25 platforms at Termini station. Our platform to Orvieto was... that's right... the same one my train to Foligno always leaves from - the farthest one in the whole station. It is literally so far that it's not even in the station, it's somewhere on the outside of it. I felt the slap of defeat when I looked up at the board and saw the horrible platform's number written next to our train, but I looked at Jess and said with determination, "We've got to run." I've done this run many times before, but never, ever like this time.

We ran. And ran and ran. And it was not a slow run. My backpack was bouncing on my bag, my purse was falling off my shoulder, and the end was nowhere in sight. You see, Jess is in good shape. She actually gets out and goes for a run every now and then. Not me. In fact, I don't think I ran once the entire year of 2010. So throw some heavy luggage on me, zero hours of sleep, and a determined and in shape runner alongside of me, and you've got a miserable and pathetic Sarah. I ran to the point that I thought I could not run anymore, and then I ran some more. My chest was bursting, my legs were burning, I couldn't breathe. And Jess kept jogging on ahead of me. All I could think was, I can't miss this train just because I'm too lazy and too out of shape to run... that's ridiculous! So I ran some more, even though every muscle in my body was screaming at me to stop. We finally got close enough to the train and I could see a lady next to us run ahead and jump on it. I wanted to scream to her hold the door, but I figured surely she would. I also knew that Jess was close up there next to her and would probably make sure she held it.

But when Jess got to the door, ahead of me, it was closed. I finally reached the door, and we motioned to the woman inside to open it for us, but it was too late. The doors had locked, literally seconds before we got there, and we has missed it. We sat there and watched the train back away from the station and, once more, I got to see my train leave without me.

The next train wasn't for two more hours. It was the train we had originally planned to go on when we were planning on sleeping. Good thing we didn't sleep....

Since we had two hours to kill, we knew we couldn't sit down or we would fall asleep, so we took the metro to Piazza del Popolo and walked from there all around Piazza di Spagna and Via Veneto. It was a nice morning walk. When we finally got back to the station, it felt like it was 2 in the afternoon. It was 10:30.

We said Good Riddance to Rome, hopped on our train (on time) and set our for a quiet and relaxing weekend of Jazz music and good food in Orvieto.

 And the whole time we just kept thinking, "What are we doing???"