The Carnevale Adventure

It was an adventure from the very beginning. Even though we were well aware that booking a hotel in a small city on the busiest weekend of the year was going to prove quite a trying task, we decided to try for it anyways. Since this year I was actually in Italy for the famous carnival season, I had been planning a trip with my friend Jordan (the new au pair for Zoila's family) to attend all the festivities in Venice for carnival. We thought we planned everything plenty in advance, but when it came down to it, we still had trouble finding a hotel. Apparently it's quite common for the hostels in Venice to have bed bugs, which I can assure you limited our options. Luckily, Zoila came through with her travel expertise and found us an inexpensive and snug bed and breakfast... Safely clear of any critters in the beds. We had actually had two weekends to choose from, since carnival season lasts for several weeks, but we chose the earlier weekend because we thought it might be a little less busy. It didn't make any difference. In the back of my mind however, I was slightly worried that the weather in the middle of February would not be very cooperative with our celebratory intentions, but I agreed with the earlier date because it seemed easier at the moment.

Unfortunately I was right. Mid February came, and so did the most bitter, horrible, depressing cold I have ever experienced in Italy. It was the country's worst winter ever.... And more than two thirds of the entire country was covered in several feet of snow, with the exception of Florence and parts of Naples (of course in my city we still got all the miserable conditions of the weather, just without the fun and beauty of the snow... Let's just say no one in Florence was very happy about that situation). After enduring several days or maybe a couple weeks of harsh winter weather, the big storms finally came... The week before our big trip to Venice. I was watching the weather religiously, hoping the snow would let up and melt away before we had to buy our train tickets to travel right through the Swiss alps near Bologna and onto Venice, right in the thick of the winter storm.

Jordan and I had been in contact every day, trying to figure out if we would be able to even make it to Venice or not. She told me that because of the snow, a train from Rome to Foligno had gotten stuck on the train tracks for several hours, and the people just had to sit inside and wait for the weather to pass and the tracks to be cleared.

That was not our ideal way to spend our special weekend away. We had to make a decision. Luckily, the only thing we had paid for so far was the hotel, so if we decided not to go, the only money we would be losing was one night's hotel cost. We considered that if we did risk going with all the snow, even if we were able to get there, walking around Venice in 25 degree weather wouldn't really be the funnest thing we could do. So after much consideration and deliberation, we postponed our trip for a week.

I'm glad we did. I had a friend that ended up going that weekend and she said it was unbearably cold the whole time she was there. I've experienced Venice like that before... Last year in January when I traveled there with my dad and sister... and I really did not want to ever have to be in Venice when it was that cold again. The next problem was to figure out what to do about our hotel, but after talking to the owner, we were able to work out renting a room the next weekend for just a small increase in price.

Just after getting a handful of confetti dumped on us... ;-)

It was perfect, and Jordan and I were thrilled to start our adventure. We still hadn't bought train tickets, but we were planning to buy them when I picked her up from the train station on Friday night. She arrived in from Foligno at 10 at night, and I was there waiting for her when she stepped off the train. Our plan was to buy our tickets, go to a pub for a bit, and then head home early to get a good night's rest.

Nothing ever goes as planned.

As we searched the kiosk to buy train tickets for a train to Venice early the next morning, we discovered some very unfortunate information: the train we planned to take was completely and entirely sold out. Not only was our selected 8 am train sold out, but so was the 9 am, 10 am, 11 am, and so on, all the way up till 2 in the afternoon... Which at that point would have meant missing almost an entire day in Venice. The only available train? 4 am. That's right. Jordan and I looked at each other, laughed and said... Are you up for it? Ok let's do it! So we purchased our insane train tickets (which luckily happened to be a quarter of the price of the late morning trains), and made a plan to stay out in the city all night long and go get on the train right after all the discos close at 4. We laughed about how crazy our plan was but then thought... This is life! We're up for fun and adventures and crazy things so why not? :) Unfortunately I didn't have my things with me, so after going home and packing, we became a little too comfortable in my cozy room and decided that maybe it would be smarter if we slept for three hours before going to the train.

To be honest, I'm quite glad we did (although I suppose that makes me not quite as adventurous as I would like to be), because we woke up semi-rested and ready to go for a fun weekend in Venice! We had a five hour train ride and didn't even sleep until the last hour of it. We finally arrived into Venice at 9 am. I didn't know what to do with myself. I am never up that early and had no idea what to do with so much time. We had also eaten like pigs at 6 am on one of our stop overs because we had skipped dinner the night before and were absolutely famished by the time the sun started rising, so eating wasn't even an option.

But it didn't matter because getting to our hotel proved to be quite a task (something I should have remembered later on that evening). We had to take a water bus, which required figuring out where to get it from and which direction to go and how long to be on it and how to buy tickets (which were an outrageous amount of money) and how to actually get on a bus when the city was so congested you could barely move. But we did it, and within an hour we were unpacking our things in our cute pink room at a quaint bed and breakfast.

The rest of the day was spent exploring the city and gaping at the incredible wonders of Carnival that surrounded us. In contrast to the empty and quiet Venice that I had encountered in January the year before, this time we enjoyed a city that was bursting with action and excitement. The city was packed… every nook and cranny was filled with travelers from all over the world, staring in awe at the beauty of the city and the magnificence of the extravagant costumes that passed by them on the streets. No one was in a rush, which was fortunate because it would have been an impossible task to maneuver quickly through the dense crowds. Instead, people slowly gallivanted through the streets, decked out in costumes, playfully grinning behind their Carnival masks, and proudly donning their SLR cameras around their necks. I was ecstatic.

It was like an entire city specially set up just for photographers… and any type of photographer – professional, intermediate, or just your every day tourist with a point and shoot. But everyone was taking pictures. There were so many bright and colorful and fantastic costumes, and the people dressed up were more than happy to pause while walking down the street and pose for an epic photo for you (and the group of 20 photographers that quickly formed behind you as soon as the person stopped). It was like a battlefield… everyone pushing and shoving and fighting to get the best angle for their shot, but it was a blast. No one was actually ever mad or in a bad mood; it was all just friendly competition.

Yum!

When Jordan and I weren’t gawking at the fabulous costumes, we only had one other thing on our minds: food. All day, we ambled slowly through the streets with eyes peeled for scrumptious bakeries. They weren’t hard to find. It seemed like every corner we past had a sparkly, shimmery display of irresistible, mouthwatering donuts, frittelle, brioches, chocolates, and biscotti. I can’t even count how many bakeries we went into over the two days we were there. After indulging in a few morsels at one locale, it was only moments before we were counting down the minutes until we had waited long enough in between to treat ourselves again at the next delicious place that caught our eye.

Since Jordan and I had only had two or three hours of sleep on the day of our arrival in Venice, we were completely exhausted by 5 pm. We headed back to our hotel, snuggled into our nice cozy beds, and took an amazing three hour nap. We didn’t even notice that we had skipped dinner because we were so full from all the goodies and sweets that we had had! Around 8, we woke up well rested, got up, got ready to go out for a night on the town, and set out to explore some of the Venice nightlife during the Carnival festivities.

We didn’t really know where to go, but we walked in the direction of where we had heard there was generally lots of activity. It wasn’t long until we stumbled upon music blasting in the streets and a buzzing crowd cheerfully dancing along. Of course, we joined right in, made some friends, and danced the night away. It was quite a celebration and people from all over joined in on the festivities, moshing and jumping together in the piazzas to all the wild music playing around them.

The crowds in the streets

The hours passed, and before we knew it, it was late in the night and time to head back to our hotel. Problem: neither of us had a clue how to get there. We pulled out our maps and began what we thought would be a brief search for the hotel we had been to only once (or maybe twice…) earlier that day. Unfortunately, I had let Jordan do the leading and had not paid much attention at all to where we were going. Our plan was to rely on our handy maps to guide us home. However, we found that trying to use maps in Venice is pretty much a futile task, considering none of the street names on the maps actually match the real names on the street signs. Combine the map confusion with an almost unbearable freezing cold, two tired girls that had been out all night, and two random Italian guys that were thankfully there to help translate for us and ask the locals where to go. The result: a two hour mess of wandering all around Venice at in the wee hours of the morning, unsuccessfully searching for a seemingly nonexistent street that neither of us could remember how to get to. Eventually around 5 am, after several circles around the entire city, we miraculously stumbled upon a familiar area and were able to track our way back to our hotel. I had not realized (luckily!) that it had taken us a full two hours, but I must admit that once we finally got back to our hotel and laid down in bed, I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so wonderful in my life!

We slept only a few hours before heading back out into the chaos and madness of Carnevale again, but we were energized all the same, still excited and eager to be taking part in such a magnificent experience. With only a few more obstacles before we headed home (a sudden downpour during a photo excursion, long lines for water buses on our way to the train station, sold out trains, claustrophobic cars filled with people standing shoulder to shoulder with absolutely no breathing room, and brief panic attacks), we made it home safe and sound, satisfied and thrilled about our the success of our first genuine Carnevale experience.

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???"

The City

Rome completely exhausts me. Every time I take a trip there, I come back tired beyond belief and feeling like I just battled the world. I finally concluded that it’s Public Transportation. I hate it. There’s nothing more stressful than cramming into a space of four square feet with people touching you on every side, breathing their unbrushed teeth and cappucino breath on you, speaking way too loudly right in your ear, and uncomfortably staring at you, a stranger that they are now a little too familiar with. And on top of that, just wait until that group of twenty sixteen year olds decides to get on your means of transportation and completely change the entire atmosphere of your ride. If it was quiet before – and I say if, as it’s something very unlikely thanks to accordion-playing gypsies that try to take advantage of everyone’s inability to run away from them and deaf grandmas that think the person on the phone with them can’t hear anything they are saying) – if it ever was quiet, prepare yourself to be completely swallowed by obnoxious screams, ridiculous squeals, and irritating incessant laughter of immature teenagers. And there is no escape. Don't even think about trying to get away from these people. You won't even be able to find a seat to sit down in to give yourself some breathing room. And if you do find an open place to sit, it's guaranteed that there will be some sort of mysterious brown sticky substance or clear liquid already occupying your desired seat. So, if you are willing and brave enough to bear all of that madness and face the insanity of Public Transportation, you might be able to arrive at your desired destination in Rome. But you can't even count on that. If you want to take a bus, it might come in fifteen minutes, it might come in thirty, or it might not ever come at all. And by the time you realize you can no longer take the bus that will never come and instead have to walk to the metro, stand in line to buy a ticket, weave through the thousands of other people also trying to get on a metro, and walk up and down a million stairs, you will never make it to your destination on time. Especially if it's a train... which you can never count on either. It might leave exactly at the time it's supposed to (which is most likely to happen if you are running late) or it could leave ten, fifteen, twenty minutes late (guaranteed to happen if you are in a hurry). Then sometimes you fly right through all the stops - doors open, people off, people on, doors closed - and sometimes you just stop. In the middle of the tracks. Waiting....waiting...and all the while the whole train is quiet, save for that one person that is shouting to their friend on the other end of their cell phone... the entire ride.

So this is where I find myself when I travel through Roma Termini Station... only I get to get off my train and instead of finding a nice quiet place to rest, I am immediately faced with throngs of people - travelers from all over the world, business people, homeless people, and really shady people that will steal your wallet or your purse or your suitcase in a heartbeat. Ok then, so run through the station, spend as little time there as possible, head outside, breathe some fresh air. Or... run outside to have a huge city bus fly past you, three cars honk at you as you cross a street, dozens of vendors trying to get you to buy their amazing (amazingly cheap) product, and noise, NOISE, Noise. Everywhere!

There is no better feeling than arriving back in Foligno, walking through the quiet town, coming in the door of our apartment, and realizing that I am home. I can breathe. I can rest. I can relax, and it's calm. I love the stillness, the mountains, the small town, the simplicity. I love coming back to my family here and joining them at the dinner table and sharing all of my crazy adventures with them. And I absolutely love curling up in my warm, comfortable bed - lamp lit, blankets piled on - and just sitting.

My friends in Rome have quite a different experience than me. They get to go out every day. They see the city life, the people, the famous historical sites, the art. They have an endless number of people to meet and become friends with, they can go to the movies anytime they want, take a language course if they desire, walk past ancient buildings on a daily basis, travel anywhere they want conveniently and easily, shop every day, and experience true city life. But while many of these things are appealing to me and seem fun, I can't help but be a little proud of the experience I get to have. I may not have tons of Americans or other au pairs around me, but I get the opportunity to become friends with actual Italian people. And people here may not know very much English, but what a great chance for me to practice and learn a little Italian! Foligno is not The City; it's not big and bustling, but there is life, there is community, and there is so much beauty. People from Rome travel to Umbria on field trips and day excursions to see the things that I get to see every day. I live fifteen minutes away from the very well-known city of Assisi and only minutes from spectacular mountains, wineries, olive mills, and medieval hilltop towns.

Foligno is beautiful.

And I live here :)

I'm so thankful for the plan that God had for me all along. I may be missing out on a few things in Rome or if I were to be an au pair in another city, but God has given me abundant blessings to enjoy right where I'm at. I have such a unique opportunity, in such a unique place, and I know that it's exactly where God wants me to be. I may not understand the significance of all of it right now, but I'm sure in time I will see why He so clearly opened all of the doors for me to be right here, right now, right where He has taken me.

Amici

Monday brought the official One-Month mark of my stay here in Italy. That means I'm a third of the way through my Italian adventure.

It's amazing what can happen in one month.

When I think back to the beginning of my time here in Foligno, I remember so clearly the wonderment, excitement, and freedom that I felt as I braced myself for a long and unknown road ahead. There I stood, completely free and ready, facing the beginning of an epic journey and carrying nothing but my bags and hope for the future.

Yet at the same time, amidst the excitement and anticipation of a new future loomed a great sense of loneliness and fear. Even though I was confident that the experience would conclude as a rewarding and beneficial time, I still feared embarking on this journey alone, having no companions to laugh with me, no confidant to walk beside me, and no comrade to explore mysteries with me. As the days passed, the mist offered no promise of clearing. I trudged on into the foggy obscurity that remained ahead, surrounding myself in a whirl of my fears. There was no escaping the loneliness. It consumed me in my travels to Rome. Emptiness followed me as I walked through the streets of Foligno, unable to communicate with anyone I encountered. Hopelessness threatened by deceiving me into believing I would never develop fruitful relationships. Quietness echoed around me as I sat alone at home with nowhere to go.

And suddenly one day the sun peeked through. I found a friend. I was introduced to more. And I no longer felt the chill of the hopelessness surrounding me. Each day brought new excitement, new opportunities, new relationships. What seemed to be an unpromising and secluded path had suddenly turned into a bustling and busy road with dozens of other travelers. They brought encouragement, they brought adventure, they brought fun and delight. And they have turned and begun to walk alongside me. I am no longer alone. I have been brought companions, been blessed with loving spirits who want to enjoy and face new experiences with me.

On Thursday, I was invited to a concert with Andrea. Andrea is studying Geology at the University of Perugia, and the concert was a special event for all the Geology students at his school. There were several bands playing classic American rock, some heavy music, and popular Italian songs. There was also an entire buffet of food. It was a different crowd than I normally find myself around, but it allowed me the experience to be a part of a typical Italian concert. I saw it all - the excitement, the jumping, the free dancing, the belting and singing - and loved the enthusiasm of the participants. These listeners ensured that they truly enjoyed their concert experience and made the most of the thrill of the music.

Piazza Navona Christmas Market

Saturday I packed a backpack and left for Rome. It had been a challenging week (babysitting can be quite difficult at times), and I needed some time to relax and unwind. Upon stepping off the train, I had friends waiting for me - such a different dynamic from my previous visit to the city. I joined Madeleine, an au pair from Maine, and we walked around the famous Christmas market in Piazza Navona. Although we weren't especially hungry, we indulged in candied nuts and spent the rest of our time fascinated by all the fried food and children's toys. Later on, our friend Jess, an au pair from Australia, met up with us. She told us the plan for the rest of the day and we continued on our way through the city. I don't remember having a specific destination. We just walked. Right around sunset we found ourselves on a bridge overlooking the Tiber River. Of course, I got out my camera and we made the most of the beautiful golden sunlight. Madeleine and Jess both seemed to thoroughly enjoy playing with my camera, so I was kind enough to let them take turns carrying it through the city for me ;-)

I don't know what this was, but it was amazing! Almost as good as the food at the Texas State Fair... Almost.

Haha... actually I had been lugging around a heavy backpack, a thick coat, and my purse and camera all day. It was quite a blessing to have some relief for a bit! And it didn't even stop there. Madeleine had to return to her Italian family to work for a few hours, so she was amazing and took my backpack with her until she came back. In the meantime, Jess and I enjoyed an evening date in the city. We visited an International Bookstore where I found a book to teach myself Italian (which has actually resulted in drastically improving my language skills in a matter of days already), a guidebook for Umbria (so I can know what I am seeing when I travel to nearby cities), and the last book in the Narnia series (I have been determined to finish it for over a year now, so I am making sure it happens before I leave Italy). The bookstore happened to be right across the street from the beautiful St. Regis hotel that I visited during my last trip to Rome, so we stopped in for a few minutes to rest our feet and enjoy the atmosphere. You will never guess who we saw there. Okay, you probably already did. That's right - the old man that I awkwardly spoke with last time! Part of me couldn't believe he was there again, but then part of me was not the least bit surprised. I told Jess I wished I had taken a picture of him last time, and she cleverly suggested that I take a picture of "her" in the hotel. I officially have a way to remember my awkward friend :)

St. Regis

Indian food!

 After our elegant experience at the St. Regis, Jess and I made our way to an Indian restaurant for dinner. First of all, I love Indian and am very excited that I live in an area of Dallas that has tons of Indian restaurants. Second of all, I can't tell you how thrilled I was to have Indian food in another country, especially after eating pasta every day. It was amazing! We ordered samosas, tikka masala, garlic naan, and the house wine, an absolutely fabulous meal. As if we weren't full enough, we left to meet up with some other girls for tiramisu right afterwards.

We passed this on our way to tiramisu :)

The tiramisu place was on the other side of town, so it took us awhile to get there. We decided to walk. As we came to the end of our 40 minute trek, I considered how quickly it had gone by. A similar walk two weeks ago on a Saturday night in Rome had seemed to drag on forever, but with company to talk to and laugh with along the way, it didn't quite seem long enough.

I don't know what this tiramisu place was, but apparently it is extremely popular and was quite crowded. I also discovered where to find the local Italians in Rome and concluded that since there weren't too many English speakers around, we must have made a good choice in our caffe selection. The selection actually came on the suggestion of a girl we were meeting - one of several girls from Iowa State University who are studying interior design in Rome for the semester. All of us know each other from church, and I had worked out beforehand that I would be staying with these girls for the night.

I ordered a classic tiramisu, ate till I was stuffed, and then stood outside with the girls trying to decide where to go and what to do next. We finally agreed on walking around until we could find a comfortable, quiet, and warm caffe. There was one not too far away, so we went inside and ordered hot tea. The next hour or so was spent in laughs, jokes, and good conversation as we all opened up to each other and took time to get to know each other better. As much as I loved having the delicious tea at the St. Regis two weeks ago, I'm quite certain I preferred the not-quite-as-delicious tea at the caffe, because there's nothing more enjoyable than good company.

That night I went home with the Iowa girls to their large apartment. They had a futon set up for me and proceeded to supply every item that I was lacking for spending the night. I think I even ate some Corn Flakes before going to bed :)

We woke up for church the next morning and enjoyed a service with our friend singing for the special music and an intriguing sermon on God's silence. We stayed and talked to people until we were kicked out because the next service was starting, and then we made plans for the rest of the day. Two of the girls had to go to their studio to work on projects that afternoon, so that left me and Anna to have the entire rest of the day to shop and explore. And boy did we shop! I brought a list to Rome with me of all the things I wanted to buy:

• Pashmina Scarves
• English books
• Socks
• Black boots
• Christmas presents
• Exchange money
• Contact Solution 
• New shirts/sweaters
• A Rome snow globe

You better believe it - I checked off every single thing on my list! I still have a few more Christmas gifts to purchase, but I definitely did not come home empty handed. *By the way, please take note that I bought a pair of black boots. I would just like to point out that besides the cowboy boots I bought when I first moved to Dallas, this is the first pair of real boots I have ever bought. It's official: I now fit in :)

One of the shops we passed along the way

 I was also quite satisfied that I was even able to find my contact solution here, because I had convinced myself that the brand I use would not be sold anywhere in Italy. Not true - they do sell it, just for three times as much money.

By the end of the day, I was carrying a massive bag of all my new purchases, and we were exhausted. We stopped by the Piazza Navona market again to make sure we didn't miss anything, but shortly after that we headed home and did what the rest of the Italians do at 4:00 - took a nap.

Piazza Navona

 We woke up re-energized and hungry, so we made ourselves pasta (did you expect something else?) and got ready to go out one more time. We still had a few things we needed to get, so we visited a few shops close to her apartment and then headed home. Because I didn't want to rush to try to leave early in the afternoon, I had decided to just spend the night on Sunday and leave Monday morning. That meant we had the whole evening together. We went back home and chatted with the other girls for a little while and told them about our day.

In front of the Pantheon

All day long the girls had been so encouraging and sweet to me, even though we had only known each other for a few days. As we were laying on our beds listening to worship music, Anna (a different Anna from the one I had spent the day with) turned over and asked if she could hear my God story. I love how she worded it. She didn't ask to hear my testimony or how I came to know Christ. She asked to hear the story of God in my life. It's a beautiful thought, thinking of the Creator of the Universe working, molding, and shaping my life, and to be honest, it's not something I've thought about much lately. Before I knew it, I was sharing the struggles I have faced and the pain I have felt in the past year, piecing together as I spoke how God was at work through all of it and how He has had a plan for it all along.

Although the trials I've endured are not exactly over, I felt the encouragement of love from my sisters in Christ. They didn't know me very well. They had no reason to sit and listen to my emotions and my story. But they did. And not only did they listen, but they cared, they empathized, and then they encouraged. We had some great discussion afterward about things we had learned or were learning from God's Story - the Bible. Even greater still was the girls' request to pray for me before our time was through. What a shower of encouragement and blessing, to be surrounded by lovers of Christ who love Him enough to love others - to love me - at a time when I needed it most.

To top the night off, I had the most delicious gelato in Rome. The girls are friends with the owner, so we tried pretty much every unique flavor you could think of. I ended up with a cup of Biscotti, Ricotta and Pear, and Nutella. Um... delicious?... Yes!

My train left from the end of these tracks. Understand my frustration?

The next day was one of the worst days I have had so far. I got up incredibly early (6 something - ugh no one should ever have to see that hour) in order to take a train to the main station so that I could take another train home to Foligno. My first train was five minutes late, so I ended up arriving in Roma Termini station (a huge and very hectic train station) 10 minutes before my train to Foligno left. I thought I would be dropped off on a platform close to my next train, but things never turn out like you expect. Instead of arriving at platform 8 as I had expected, I was at platform 26. The train to Foligno was at Platform 1. I looked ahead of me, looked across the tracks, and looked all the way back down to where I would have to run to get on the train. I still hadn't bought my ticket, and don't forget that I was carrying a backpack, purse, winter coat, and bulging shopping bag that weighed about 20 pounds. I was a mess. I dashed through the station, weaved through people, smashed into other people, and thought I was going to die I was so out of breath. I bought my ticket and ran and ran and ran some more, until I just couldn't go any further. I got to my platform, just in time. The train wasn't there. I looked up at the kiosk to make sure it was the right platform and realized that instead it was about another quarter mile down the way, to the very outermost platform of the whole station. I walked. As I was walking, panting, and sweating, I watched the train back out of the platform and roll away. It was 7:43 am.

I tried to be positive and think about the good that could come of my missing the train. I had two hours before the next train (which cost twice as much...of course), so I could definitely enjoy a Sausage, Egg, and Cheese Biscuit from the McDonald's nearby. Wrong. I forgot... this is Italy. We eat pastries and croissants for breakfast, and that does not include Egg McMuffins. Don't even try suggesting it because you are just a heretic if you do. When that idea failed, I found a pizza place that was open (because it's okay to eat pizza at eight in the morning, but not Sausage Biscuits) and indulged in a very large piece of ham and cheese pizza.

My pizza... still not as good as a Sausage Biscuit ;-)

 I'm going to skip the rest of that day, because I was not in a pleasant mood and wasn't too fond of Italy for a few moments during that day. Thank goodness the next day came to redeem my attitude a bit.

Martina invited me over to a friend's house for dinner on Tuesday night. It's Italy, so she picked me up at 10:00 pm when she finished her volleyball game. We arrived at her friend's house and drove up to a beautiful and huge home situated on a hill and overlooking the city of Foligno. Inside the cozy home we found seven girls (Martina's teammates) sitting at a round table, each with a pizza in front of her. There were two open seats. Martina and I sat down and dove right into the pizza.

The rest of the night was filled with hysterical laughter, comical attempts at English and Italian, and playful shouting matches. The girls were fascinated by my American background and kept asking questions about what things are really like in the U.S., as opposed to just in the movies. They couldn't believe we actually have balls in high school called Prom and that students really put their books in lockers. I assured them that these ideas are true and that the movies are usually pretty accurate when it comes to things like that.

After a late, late night, I went home and crashed for very short four hours. But it didn't matter. I am content :) I have had encouragement when I'm down, sharpening when I'm weak, laughter when I'm sad, and company when I'm lonely. God has been good. He has provided what I began to fear would never come. I have wonderful friends :)