The next morning started out with a bang Uncle Tim and I woke up and left the house at 7:45 once we took the bus to the Tube and got on the train we realized that we actually meant to arrive at the airport at 7:45 and were therefore an hour behind schedule. We sat there completely at the mercy of London’s Underground system hoping to make it in time. When we arrived at London City Airport we ran in and I made it. Then the flight was delayed by 15 minutes so I grabbed a quick pastry. I boarded the plane, which was small and required us to walk on to the tarmac, and found to my surprise that I had a row to myself and that the seats were actually nice and comfy. I slept most of the 1.75 hour trip to Firenze Peretola and felt very well rested and content as I watched the French/Italian seaside and mountains slide past beneath me. This peace however was not to last.
My state of peace was quickly followed by a hellish nightmare. I experienced no more than minor annoyance as I left the plane and cool British atmosphere behind to endure the baking Italian sun. So still feeling good I headed through customs and found my baggage waiting for me in the baggage claim. Then I began to put my Italian experience to use for the first time asking 3 people how to find the shuttle to Santa Maria Novella train station in Florence. I got on the shuttle, paid 5 Euro for my ticket and sat down. After the 20 or so minute bus ride I got to the train station and once again successfully used my Italian to purchase a ticket and then locate the correct bus stop for busses 2 and 28.
At this point things were starting to get hot. The shuttle to the station was warm and the station and running around therein had me working up a sweat. The sun was quite warm while I waited for my bus, but I only waited a 5 or so minutes and then got on Bus 2 feeling very proud of myself. I was satisfied with my use and understanding of Italian to get to the correct bus and was assured I would shortly reach my destination. Oh how wrong I was.
I asked the bus driver to take me to bus stop Gramsci 9 (gram-shee no-vay). He was a bit unsure, but when I clarified that it was in Sesto Fiorentino (the small town just outside of Florence where I’m staying) he seemed to know what I referred to. As I sat on the bus people watching Italians, I began to sweat in earnest. The bus was not air-conditioned and it was truly hot outside, 35˚C in fact (95˚F). So I was hot. I fanned myself with some papers from my bag and it gave marginal relief for .2 seconds. As I sat on the bus for half an hour or so I became very toasty. I finally saw a stop that said Via Gramsci (the street the Villa is on) I quickly disembarked and watched the bus drive away.
I couldn’t tell where I was on the street so I picked a random direction and walked a 100 yards or so. Then I was like, “I don’t see it” so I walked back to the previous spot and continued past for perhaps another hundred yards. I was of course on the side of the street with no shade. Deciding this was wrong I headed back to the bus stop to stare at it. I noted it said Gramsci 01. I knew I was heading to Gramsci 09, but didn’t really register that there might be a problem. At this point I had already walked further than a football field in the hot sun without making progress. Keep in mind that the whole time I carried with me three bags and a back pack; my arms were already sore. I then asked a lady where I might find the Villa I was heading to and she wasn’t sure, but pointed vaguely toward the direction I had originally headed. I then resumed in that direction.
While my past self is walking down the streets let me tell you a little about Italian sidewalks in the town of Sesto Fiorentino, or better yet, let me tell you about the small area outside the curb on Italian streets. This “sidewalk” area, as we will call it since I have no better name for it is no more than 5 feet wide at it’s biggest point. After another few hundred yards the sidewalk began to narrow until it was perhaps 3 feet wide. I switched so that I pushed one bag ahead while carrying the other 2 behind me so that I could fit. As I continued further the sidewalks began to switch between cobblestone (not good for rolling bags), crazy ripped up pavement (worse for rolling bags, and curbs everywhere (-_-).
I won’t bore you with anymore agonizing details, but let’s say that a mile later I saw some landmarks that I had read about previously. At one point I walked past the Villa by a couple blocks asked directions and was directed to Via Corsi Salviati (a street) as opposed to the Villa Corsi-Salviati. I ended up walking around a couple more blocks and finally after asking for directions several more times seeing some street signs and house numbers, I made it to the front door. By the end I was stopping every 50 feet or so to settle my heart rate and catch my breath. I had to sit down several times as well (please remember the 95˚ and the 1 pastry I had eaten 6+ hours before and zero water). I almost passed out on the street within two hours of Florence! <-(sarcastic exclamation mark). So that part was truly truly awful. I finally stumbled through the front doors and met with the Villa manager Helen who had icy cold water bottles with little chunks of ice. (I couldn’t drink fast enough).
I sat in a daze as things were explained to me and kinda heard stuff. Then Rosita another in-charge Villa person copied my passport, then Amy an RA type person showed me up my room through a maze of hallways and stairs (up and down). I got to my room and like sat for I don’t know how long until I started to like see and notice things again.
My first conscious thought about the Villa was, “Wow, that’s an awesome view.” as I looked out my window. Shortly thereafter I met Luigi one of my roommates from Michigan. We chatted for a bit about where we’re from etc and I told him my horrifying story. A few minutes later we met Jin who goes to Duke, but has been off for two years serving in the Korean military. We figured out beds and drawers then I went downstairs to retrieve my bags. After only a bit of confusion as I tried to find a way downstairs I grabbed them, went up and unpacked (mostly). I then sat on the bed for like 2 hours until I gathered the strength to do things. Then I went and found Laura and Ali, my friends from school, in their room and hung out with them until dinner at 6:30.
Fun Fact: Dinner is AWESOME. We have a chef named Bruno who cooks the most amazing meals ever from fresh ingredients gathered from farms near the villa. We started with a soup that was brothy and had rice, celery, onions, Italian spices and herbs. It was an awesome salty/savoury soup that was so delicious. I thought it was our dinner. Then I was surprised as plates of chicken covered in some sort of gravy-like sauce emerged with more plates of sliced seasoned potatoes. !!!!!! SO GOOD. I also had salad, bread, and olive oil. But the meal was heaven. It almost (almost) made up for the previous torture. After dinner I walked around the garden with some friends (old and new) and explored the Villa some more.
Later I left with a little group and we walked a couple blocks to find some gelato. We were surprised to see a little fair with bumper cars, swinging chairs, and other cool little carnival rides and stands. We were all too tired to stay and enjoy the fair so we headed back to the Villa and got some much needed rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment