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And that was it. The train ticket said I was booked for my own seat in the Express to Milan. I was going to have my own seat and be comfy and maybe even get a little sleep. Well.After frantically trying to find the right train, we were informed that my ticket was incorrect and that the train I was going to be on was packed and there were no seats left - standing room only. Aaron threw my backpack on the train and helped me up. It was sweaty and hot, people were everywhere - I was standing for the 8 hour journey back to Milan. I was less than plussed. After a tearful good bye, the train started up and I was an emotional wreck. I didn't want to leave, I was mad about my 80 Euro train ticket being nonrefundable and unusable. Before I could get comfy, we made another stop and the door opened - a family with what seemed like 50 boxes and suitcases jumped on and moved me out of where I was - pushing me into the hallway which had people lined up standing, holding onto only the racks which were above our heads. We stopped at every little town from Rome to Milan; there must have been 50. There was no sleep to be had - I had to guard my personal space and my belongings. Because I broke my watch in the hostel in Rome, I had to rely on other people to tell me the time. I'm sure the guy standing next to me got tired of me asking him what time it was in English - one would think I would have learned how to ask time in his native tongue. The train came to its final stop and I bolted off the train - I was running short on time and I still needed to make it to the airport before 10 a.m. which was only 40 minutes. After asking 3 or 4 taxi drivers to take me to the airport, I finally got one who spoke english and who was kind enough to take my bag from me. Before I knew it, he had broken every road rule possible - I kept my eyes shut during the entire trip. He dropped me off at the gate and I was hastily trying to find my SAS checkin. After handing in my bag, grabbing a croissant which was filled with a gross puss looking substance, I opted for a fruit drink instead. I was working on no food, no sleep, no water and I was probably pmsing. I was one force to be reckoned with. After touring the stores for half an hour, my plane was being boarded. I found my window seat (next to the emergency exit) and fell asleep before I realized I needed my seatbelt on. Three hours later I was being woken up by the flight attendant who had apparently tried to wake me up for most of the trip in an attempt to put on my seat belt. He must have thought I was dead. I had a layover in Copenhagen which was bittersweet. I was looking forward to stretching my legs and buying more random goods from the trinket stores and checking out the beautiful international airport. This time I wasn't harassed as badly by the customs guards who forced me to give them my passport and answer useless questions. A couple looks over and I was good to go. I made a phone call which ended up only being a one minute message on my dad's voicemail (but a charge of $46 on my Visa) and I sat down in a section of chairs with people my age. There was a girl with long curly red hair who was laying on the chairs resting her head on her backpack, a guy three chairs down from me who was on my flight to Copenhagen the first time and one guy sitting across me who looked deep in his sketchbook - although a welcome sight. He had a MEC backpack resting at his feet. After a couple moments of making eye contact, we struck up a conversation and found out that he was a fellow Calgarian. Sweet. We boarded the plane only a short while later and I took my window seat. After sitting down and believing I was incredibly lucky because I didn't have anyone sitting next to me, an old man sat down - looked at me and said he would find another seat. I didn't think I smelled that bad but maybe I did. So my new friend from Calgary sat with me and then I took up a seat with him. We had great conversations and I was almost sad 9 hours later when the plane arrived in Seattle. I was bound for a hotel in the city while my new friend was heading back to Calgary. We exchanged emails and vowed to go for coffee when we got back to the same city. We exited the plane and attempted to find our backpacks, I was so excited to never see mine again. I turned all emotional again and found a quiet place in the airport to call my dad. I didn't have a place to stay, I was running low on cash and I didn't want to hang out in a city by myself. After crying a little, I found a brochure for a beautiful looking hotel and after calling them to check their prices, I toughed it out and booked my $300/night room. I was excited for a shower - I think that's why I paid so much money. The hotel was lovely. I even had my own personal chauffeur to take me back to the airport after a good nights sleep, long hot shower and a quick look around the University district. I hung out at the Seattle airport for a couple hours - I was more than anxious to go home although desperately wanting to go back to Italy. It was so fascinating and I had become so comfortable with it in the time I was there. I was back to the city where cars actually (well, usually) stopped for you when you crossed the street, people spoke english, and the money made more sense and was harder to spend. But on the plus side, I had learned more than I thought I ever would about myself, my tolerance, my friends and about history. Besides, I also met a cute guy on the plane coming home and if anything, that was pretty darn swell. Posted by Bella at 6:31 PM# 0 Comments:
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