*sighs*

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So I'll go ahead and pick up where we left off. As I said, we met Pat on our first night in Florence where we were planning on staying two nights because he was the fifth person in our hostel room. As we walked in, Becky began muttering: "Oh no. The worst thing. The worst thing. Oh no." It transpired that her passport had fallen out of her pocket back at the internet point underneath the train station (it was by now ten or eleven pm) and it was nowhere to be found. While she and Kinsey went to look for it (they never found it) Jesse and I stayed and talked to Pat and were told by the hostel people that we had to pay with cash for both nights right away or we couldn't stay. Problem: neither Jesse's card nor mine was currently working (bank issues). We were trying to figure out how to stall while we came up with a plan for the missing 200 euros or so, and Pat calmly let us know that if we couldn't get the money he would lend us the money. Dude! We just met you. Thank you so much, you are awesome. Plus, he didn't mind that we all smelled, how should I say...interesting, after having been on one of the more disgusting trains for hours and not having showered in a while (through no fault of our own!). So it turns out he was from Minnesota, same age as all of us, studying in Ireland since January and travelling for a month or so until finals. Becky and Kinsey got back in time so that we didn't lose the room, and so we all hung out that night, the next day, and the day after. Then it turned out we were all staying in the same hostel in Cinque Terre. So we caught the train there on Sunday after sitting on the steps of the Duomo in the early morning before the crowds came (Becky and Kinsey went to Italian mass) and after a few train swaps found ourselves speeding through a lightless tunnel and- WHOOSH! The sea! The mountains! The sun! The fresh air! Cinque Terre! We were staying in Riomaggiore, the first of the five towns which, after visiting each, turned out to be my personal favorite. We walked up the main street (the only street?) passing a few mercatos (markets, our new best friend) and found the main office of our hostel. Two hostels shared the same office, so we had to wait for the landlady of Affitacamere Patrizia to come back. In Italy everyone is coming back in "about fifteen minutes...I am thinking". But after about that long Patrizia appeared. Or should I say she bore down upon us with such enthusiasm as I have NEVER seen before. I really cannot describe her voice. I start to laugh; I can't wait to try to speak like her in person! You can't know. It is quite high pitched, kind of scratchy, kind of the way I sounded when I was little- so at least my parents get the picture. "Hello! Who are you? You are five? No four. Okay, you separate (points to Pat after we explain with a mass of hand gestures). Patrizio? Patrick. I am Patrizia. Welcome. Today is the absolute WORST day for you to come. It is the worst, the worst - cell phone rings - hold on. Pronto!" (I think this is what Italian people say when they pick up the phone in a hurry, instead of hello. It would be like answering your phone in the States with 'Rapidly!'.) After conversing in Italian as though there was a pack of horses at her back for a minute she hung up and continued: "okay. you patrick, you come with me, you four wait here." we explained that though we had separate reservations we would like to stay in the same room, since there were five beds in the room the four of us had reserved and we wanted to explore cinque terre. Patrizia looked intently. "Oh, ok, I call the boss. Because I am fine with it but who knows? so I call. But you four want to stay with him?" yes! but if we had said no, how hilarious. so after a quick convo with the boss she beckoned us and led us on a brisk uphill climb toward our hostel room, talking a steady stream of explanations and advice, among them: "you see that line of people? they are going to via dell'amore. do not, whatever you do, do not go to via dell'amore today, no, it is too crowded, if you want you go on other hikes fine but do not go here, go tomorrow, do not go today." and "well, you can swim at the beach...theoretically. I do not know, maybe too cold, who knows? do not ever lock this door. and this door, just push like this. and this is a faster way to the train station if you want, and this is a nice walk down to water, and this is your beds, the maid is coming so just leave your bags here, and..." on and on. we loved her dearly even though we were soaked with sweat by the time we reached our room. it was so amazing! we had a balcony and a view of the sea and the hills. I was so sad to leave this morning.

So that was just the beginning. I guess I will have to blog about the rest of cinque terre at some other point, and hopefully we will have something to write about venice by tomorrow or the next day.

quick! about kinsey's (or keeenslay, as they call her here in italy) face. Glass cut to face, at the market that day on the same main street about a block from patrizia's office. so we are at the market trying to stop the bleeding with some iodine and cotton balls procured by the market lady and she directs us with the help of an english speaking customer to the farmacia. there they direct us to the public assistance, where there is a nurse, and on the way we find patrizia who directs us there and tells us, "i am here. you need me, i am always here. but I think no hospital, you are fine, too expensive, you be there all night because today is the worst day". so we make it to the public assistance place but the nurse is gone because it is about five in the evening, and so they give me some supplies to butterfly her wound together once the bleeding stops. we make our way as a spectacle back to the hostel room, and after bandaging her go back to the internet place where we last updated. Then, it turns out she did need stitches so the three of us girls took the train to la spezia while the boys held down the fort at riomaggiore. at the train station we caught a cab and tried to explain the word hospital to the driver. after awhile caught on - "ospidale!" and we were on our way. three hours and two stitches later we were wandering around la spezia looking for another taxi to take us back to riomaggiore since we didn't think the trains would be running that late. we found a gelateria and begged the people to call us a taxi (the same name in italy, thank you!!) and though confused they happily obliged. Five minutes later our same driver from before picked us up and took us back home (as riomaggiore certainly felt by then). So, there you go- the bones of the story, kinsey was incredibly brave and I am over my time.

So...ciao, even though soon we won't be in italy anymore...ciao ciao ciao...

Courtney and kids

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Comments

[Jackie]

Becky Baird! I love you very much!

[Lora]

my pretties
hi darlings! finally, i get to see your blog! the address left for us did not work...now scott is here with us in oakland and got the right one. loved seeing you in paris, glad to be home. love love-

[Elaine]

A novel.....that's what your blog is !
You've got everything necessary for a novel. No kidding.......descriptive narrative, the unexpected (and then some), three heroines and one, or two heroes, the anti-forces (an exploding bottle).......tears, smiles, culinary adventures, drama.....all you need is an overall title.