My journey back to Italy

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If you've ever had a rough time traveling you'll sympathize
And feel free to have a good laugh at my expense.
Jess, Dad and I got to to the airport in plenty of time and had time to chat before I went through security and on to my gate.

The 14 year-old kid sitting next to me on the plane was in Fayetteville visiting his Dad for Christmas. Dane was a sweet kid who obviously bounced back and forth via plane often. We talked mostly of artistic techniques. Then he drew me a picture of snowy mountains and pine trees, like he knew the view from my window.

We landed in Atlanta in time for breakfast, which was great because there is an amazing café in the airport that sells bagels that will change your life. (not gonna lie!) I then made it to my gate and ate my breakfast while watching a father shadow his wobbly toddler between seats.

I boarded my plane, sat down, and got situated with my Bucky neck pillow. Next to me was a friendly, black woman in her 50s named Gloria. She had just spent the week with her oldest childhood friends for New Year’s and was on her way back home. She was very interested in my life as an international student and seemed to be concerned that I wasn’t married yet and didn’t even have a boyfriend. I told her I almost was once, but decided better of it. We spoke about travels to Europe for about an hour before an announcement came over saying there was a mechanical problem and our flight was canceled. Now that I think about it, I most likely would’ve been very impatient to get going if she and I hadn’t been talking.

We gathered our things and headed off the plane. I lost Gloria in the crowd and didn’t get a chance to tell her good-bye. As I was exiting the plane, I knew there would be a massive line and the Delta counter in concourse A, and probably B. “Where’s the international wing?” I asked a flight attendant. “E,” she answered. “E, for international?” the girl in front of me turned to ask. “yeah.” I answered. “Shall we go?” she asked. “sure.” I said, smiling to myself about all the people I meet when I’m traveling.

Emma works in Berlin as a customer service representative in 5 languages. She was visiting her family back in Monterey, Mexico for the holidays, but was now heading back to Germany. She was about my age and was also traveling alone. It’s always nice to find someone in the same predicament you’re in. We made it to the Delta line in concourse E. And we wait. The question occurs to me “I wonder how much time I spend standing in lines?” Just then, it was my turn.

“These poor ladies,” I thought to myself “they do the best they can and have to deal with everyone’s personal problems and stress.” I handed her my paperwork and passport and waited patiently while she carefully analyzed her computer screen with a question mark look on her face. Emma was talking to the rep at the next desk. She finished before I did and asked if I wanted her to wait on me. “No,” I said. “I need to get a bite to eat and call my mom. We’re only 1 gate apart from each other, so I’ll see you in 30 mins. or so.” “Okay, yeah, I need to call my boyfriend and tell him I’ll be delayed arriving. Okay see you soon.” She said. My rep told me I was going to be rerouted through Rome and then on to Venice and then, I got signed up to receive frequent flier miles. (1,200 already, SWEET!)

I went to a bank of pay phone and tried to call home. After having no success with 4 different phones, I finally paid one of the computer phone things, but Mom couldn’t hear me. I hung up the receiver more than frustrated, picked up my bag, and went in search of more phones. I eventually found more and got one to work. I told Mom about the cancellation and my new flight numbers but needed to get moving if I was going to be able to get a snack before I get to the plane before 4pm. I couldn’t believe the time had passed so quickly. I stopped to and got to bags of Cheese Ritz Bits and a bottle of water. I walked by Emma’s gate to tell her good-bye, but they had just closed the door after everyone had boarded. So, I checked in at my gate just in time to line up.

I grabbed my book, pillow, and iPod from my bag before putting in the overhead compartment. I stumped into my seat and prepared for a 9 ½ hour flight. (yippie) I sat next to a man I learn was an independent consultant currently working for an international firm. Each member of his consulting team were placed all over the world … and he was going to Venice. (I wonder if he knows there’s not really internet in Venice)

At this point, I hadn’t eaten since the bagel and I was really hungry. I quickly devoured every snack in my bag, slipped on my slippers, put the relaxation music on my iPod, put on my eye mask, and curled up in my 2 seats. I didn’t sleep much, but it was still nice and relaxing. A few hours later, we were brought dinner. I wasn’t thrilled to see Italian food again. The Americans at CIMBA say “Italians are food racists,” because the only towns with multinational types of food are tourist town. Near Asolo, there is a Chinese restaurant a few towns away, and the Moroccan place in Trieste. Every single restaurant is Italian food.

Once in Rome, I was herded toward security. My flight landed late and because it was only supposed to be an hour layover anyway, so I need to hustle. While finding my way in the herd, I ran into 2 soldiers. “Looks like you two are headed to Vicenza.” I said. “Yeah we are.” One them said. I chatted with them about our connecting flight while we shuffled in a clump towards security. I had to tell them “Romans don’t really so ‘lines.’ They do ‘pushing crowds.’”

After we finally got through, we RAN to our gate. I was sick, with a cough, was wearing a fleece, and shouldn’t have been running … but we finally got there just in time … to wait. The flight was delayed for over an hour while we stood in line…waiting. Then, we finally boarded … and waited for over an hour in our seats. After 30 mins. on the plane, I sat there watching the baggage handlers UNLOADING the luggage from its previous trip. RED FLAG … not a good sign. They then loaded 3 flats of luggage into the plane. We finally took off and headed towards Venice, 45 mins. away.

Once in Venice, the soldiers and I chatted near the baggage carousel … which I warned would take a while to get moving. After only 30 mins., we watched the bags slump on to the carousel. My purple spotted JanSport luggage is easy to spot … and I wasn’t spotting it. Jones got 2 of his 3 pieces of luggage, while Smith and I were left bag less. I wasn’t really surprised with all the delays and reroutes.

So, we waited in the lost baggage line. (yep that’s right, I said another line and waiting). I FINALLY got to the front to fill out the form and the lady asked me to describe my luggage. I pulled up my matching carry-on bag, and said “like this!” “Just like that?” she said with a little surprise looking at the purple polka dots. “Yes!” I said with a smile.

I was exhausted and could wait to get back to the dorm. I gave the soldiers my card and went outside to get a taxi. My Mom had mentioned that I should just take the taxi from the airport, but I knew it would be really expensive, and plus I didn’t have the 2, 50lbs. pieces of luggage as an excuse for not taking the trains. Just for my own information I asked the taxi driver how much it would cost to go all the way to Asolo. €150!!! I didn’t have that much nor was I willing to pay it. It only cost €30 to go to the Mestre train station. I skipped the ticking line and used the self-service machine, which I had used 5-6 times before. I clicked CastelFranco, paid €9, got my ticket, and went to my train. I sat down across from a man who was interested in talking to me. I really wasn’t, but decided to be polite to the man interested in talking to the traveling American student.

I thought to myself “Besides those 2 hours I slept on the flight to Rome, I don’t know how long I’ve gone without sleep, because I only got 3 hours of sleep my last night at home.” I was painfully tired. While lost in my thoughts and conversation, the announcements of the cities we were passing occasionally interrupted. I didn’t know most of the cities, until it quickly came to my attention that we were going south, aka AWAY from CastelFranco, Veneto. I quickly looked at my ticket and discovered I was on my way to the OTHER CastelFranco in another state. The man I was talking to confirmed that I was going the wrong way on the wrong train. “HOLY CRAP!” I thought as I got my bag and moved towards the door. Of course the man I was talking to patted me on the butt as I left. (thanks perv)

NOT GOOD. I am currently in itty bitty nowhere, Italy in the freezing cold! Great. I need to get back to Padova and I don’t speak a lot of Italian, so this is not going to be easy. I can’t believe I did this!
I went to the counter and asked the ticket master if he spoke English. He didn’t. In my broken Italian, I explained that I hit the wrong button on the machine and accidently headed toward the wrong CastelFranco and now needed to go back north. I got a new ticket for €5. I read the schedule for a train going to CastelFranco … I couldn’t find one. So, I searched for Padova and there would be a train that would be passing through Padova in 30 mins… not good.

It was below 30F outside and getting colder, not to mention most little train stations in Italy aren’t heated, and I’m only wearing a fleece. I was going to have to figure out how to stay warm for 30 mins. without heat. I was so exhausted and very mad at myself at this point. Also, the doctor told me to not to stay out in the cold or I might get pneumonia. I paced in the underground tunnel so to keep out of the wind and warm up a bit. Then, the train was delayed an extra 15 mins. These are the times I often think to myself crazy things like “when was the last time I ate?”

I got on the train to Padova in silence. Cold, hungry, tired, lost, and pissed … I figured out I had 5 hours of sleep in the past 2 ½ days and had eaten twice with some snacks.

I got out in Padova and went in search of a bank. I didn’t care how much a taxi to Asolo cost … I would pay it. There were NO banks, and I asked. I even asked a store clerk if she could charge my debit card and give me cash. She couldn’t. I read the schedule and there wouldn’t be a train passing through CastelFranco for over an hour. I was beside myself. I sat on the floor of the Padova train station, in the corner, so not to be in the way. I sat there watching the departure board, partially from boredome and partially out of wishful thinking. I felt myself holding back tears. I really wanted to cry.

SUDDENLY, CastelFranco rolled across the board as a connecting! I jumped to my feet and ran to platform 8 for a train heading to Belluno. It was already there. I sat in a seat totally relieved! I don’t know how I missed it on the schedule, but didn’t care at this point.

4 stops later, I was in CastelFranco. I went to the taxi stand and told the driver “ad Asolo.” I slumped into the seat, but was as excited as a child on Christmas morning. 30 mins. later, I was standing outside CIMBA.

I climbed the icy stairs to find the front door locked, and I had left my keys with Jennifer here at school. I yelled, but no one heard me. I went to Tess’ door, but she wasn’t there. I really had to pee and I seriously considered peeing in a shadowed bush. I was about to burst. Just then, I heard a car coming up the hill. “Please let that be a CIMBA person!” I chanted to myself.

It was Alex and Bernardo. They asked me what I was doing out here and I said I was waiting for someone with a key. “Oh my gosh, how long have you been waiting?” They were horrified. “Just 10 minutes.” I answered. They hugged me and handed me a key. They would follow me up the stairs with Alex’s new desk.

I was so happy to see everyone and hugs all around. I needed to call home and take a shower. They asked if everyone wanted to go out to eat. “NO! I just need to sleep, and this has been a day…well, days from hell!” I didn’t even want to eat I was so tired. I called home. They were worried that it took me hours to get from Venice to Asolo, and why I hadn’t called. I briefly described the journey and begged for sleep. I showered and climbed into bed, where I stayed for 2 days!

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Photos

Waiting to take off
here i go again

Delta Airlines
(I totally found this on the internet)

Cartoon
That's right

In disguise
They look like they work ... but looks can be deceiving.

Delta ...
Can't a girl hold out on the Italian food for 1 last meal? guess not!

Waiting in Rome
yup

My luggage
Mam, can you please describe the luggage? Yes, I can!

Waiting for the train
and freezing

Map of Veneto
Asolo is a small town between Montebelluna and Riese Pio. I got from Mestre to the bottom where the "F" city name fades away. I should've changed trains in Padua, but didn't.