18 hours of traveling

So I wrote this blog when I was traveling on the train from Genova to Milan because I was really bored and had time to kill. All it covers is my actual journey to Sanremo and when I have time to think straight I will add in what I've actually been doing here... hopefully soon!

As excited as I have been since I found out I was offered a job by ACLE I knew that an emotional confrontation with myself was inevitable, and surprisingly it came to a head while trying to figure out what to wear on the plane the night before I was supposed to leave. I didn’t think I would be as upset as I was but since I also tend to be a cryer, I guess it also makes sense. Luckily my family was kind enough to remind me of how miserable I was last year when I returned from Ascoli - complaining about the food, the people, the scenery, pretty much everything. I suppose I was a tad unreasonable during my transition period, but it was a good reminder of why I wanted to go back so bad in the first place.

The farewell at the airport with my mom, Meg and Steve was tough to say the least. So I threw on my wayfarers as I stood in the security line and chanted to myself to pull it together because there’s no crying in public (or baseball). It was really surreal to be sitting in the airport. I’ve traveled a lot in the past few years, and a few times by myself, but obviously this time was a whole different experience. My first flight wasn’t too bad. I really really wanted to sleep but despite all of my forcing I just couldn’t do it. I watched a movie and some tv shows and made friends with the woman sitting next with me, who is originally from Rwanda and now teaches in New Hampshire. She was on her way to her brother’s wedding in Milan because he lives there, while one of her sisters lives in Rome and the other in Ireland. We were also airport buddies all the way to our separate connecting flights.

I was really excited when I saw the first greens of Ireland when heading towards Dublin for my layover. I’ve never been to Ireland before but I felt an instant connection without even leaving the airport. So much of who I am is Irish, especially because it’s the only part of my heritage that I really look like. Even though I quite clearly love Italy and embrace my Sicilian roots whole heartedly, I’ll always stick out as a foreigner. I feel like I could really be a part of Ireland with no one knowing the difference (until I open my mouth of course). It feels really good to say I’ve at least been IN Ireland.

My connecting flight was okay. I slept for about an hour and a half leaning on my tray table. I felt pretty nauseous for awhile but all of the food and drinks cost money and I didn’t want to spend four euro on crackers. I was so lost in my magazine that I didn’t even notice when we started to descend. So when the plane wheels hit the runway in Milan I dropped my magazine and just thought “Oh my God. I’m in Italy...Again.” I couldn’t believe it was real. I still can’t. The plane was on the smaller side so we even had to walk on the tar mac and when my feet hit the ground I felt so insanely happy.

I was pretty nervous when waiting for my luggage but luckily this wasn’t a British Airways repeat and I actually left with all of my belongings. I had to take a bus from the airport to Milano Centrale for my train to Sanremo and of course an Italian driver behind the wheel is always an interesting experience. I almost forgot how insane and pretty much care free both the drivers and pedestrians can be. I was stressed at the train station because I only had about 25 minutes after I bought my ticket to find the platform, get something to eat, and try to call the ACLE office to let them know when I was arriving so someone would meet me at the train station, and I wanted to call home. But after fighting with the public phone for being way too confusing I gave up and just hopped on the train. I slept for awhile, but it was actually a little embarrassing because i kept snorting myself awake (I guess the tonsillectomy and adnoidectomy were really worth it...). This train ride was two hours to Genova where I had to switch but first make a mad dash to actually figure out the phone this time and run around the train station like a crazy woman trying to figure out where to go. The train ride from Genova to Sanremo wasn’t too shabby. I sat with two Australian girls who were on their way to Monaco after spending three weeks in Italy (and had originally only planned one but loved it too much to leave). They’ve been traveling for about two months and still have another to go so they had some pretty interesting stories.

This is a video I took of some of the train ride from Genova to Sanremo - everything was so beautiful I thought it was worth it! (and you don't need volume...it's just me talking with the aussie girls)


More to come later!