Transportation Revelation

I finally, finally, got to experience just how bad Italian transportation can be. And dear god, ladies and gentlemen, it can be horrid.

After we left Siena we headed down to Rome for two nights, after which we traveled down to Naples, Pompeii, and Capri. Getting there was absolutely no problem what so ever, we had a comfortable cabin, there was no one on the train, the boat left on time, all that jazz. Getting back to Rome, however, was a different story.

To begin with, I believe that yesterday set a new record for number of different modes of transportation taken in one day. To get from the top of the mountain down to the dock, we had to take the Funiculare (cable car, and yes, I was humming "Funiculi funicula" the entire time we were on it.) It was crowded, and smelly, and just awful. After, we got onto the boat that ferries back and forth between Naples and Capri, which was just fine. From the dock in Naples we had to take a tram to the train station, from which we took a train to Rome, and then a bus to the hotel. I know. Nuts.

But the most interesting part is the trains. Thusfar, I have had no problems with Italian trains. Maybe one is a little late. Maybe one is a little dirty. But on the whole, fantastic. Yesterday, not so much. The train that we were taking was delayed first five minutes, then 10, then 20, then 25, then 40, then 45. When it finally rolled into the station, it was an hour late. We all clamored on to the cars, shuffling here and there trying to find the appropriate seats. Once settled, we realized there was no A/C on the train. Fun. More waiting in the sweltering heat of Southern Italy. Then, behind me, a small child of about seven starts wailing. And I mean wailing, bawling, tears flowing, whining at the top of her lungs: Noooooooonnaaaaaaaaa *cry cry sniff* Nooooooonnaaaaaaaaaaaaaa *cough gasp wail* non voooooo-ooo-ooooglio partiiiiiire Naaaaapoliii-iii-iiiiiii. I could have killed her. (translation: Graaaaaaaaaaaaaandmaaaaaa I don't want to leave Naples!!") OH MY GOD CHILD. You are going to see your grandmother again. I promise. It's not like you're leaving forever. And after about 20 minutes of this, her younger sister joins in, in a deeper, more obnoxious cry-whine. Another 10 minutes go by, all of us on our last nerves (Mike at this point is laughing at the fact that all I want to do is turn around and whack this kid) when the conductor comes on and says "Oh sorry, the train doesn't work. You'll have to take a different one." Blank stares all around. Shit.

So we book off the train and are trying to figure out what train to take. Track 19, 3 tracks over from ours, is a train to Rome. Salvation. We start scrambling over the tracks, being yelled at and cheered on by security personnel. Finally we climb onto the train, it's a free for all for seats. Once settled, I find, much to my displeasure, that another lady had reserved the seat I was in. So I moved. Only to find at the next stop that I was taking someone else's seat, and that the lady who had displaced me before was a liar and didn't actually have that seat at all. I ended up a car down from where my bag was, passed out in a cabin with Mike and Richard and three Irish people. At last, at 9, we got back to Rome.

Oh Italy. I'll miss you.

Last Day : (

It's true. It's the last day in Siena, and I'm really very upset about it. We've been saying goodbye to all the owners of the places we're regulars, like the coffee shop by school, the local sandwich place, and my favorite bar. We've been saying bye to teachers and buildings, and I have one whole bag packed and ready to go for tomorrow morning (it also ways about the same as a 10 year old child, but hey, that's fine right?) While packing I realized just how much stuff I didn't need. There were shirts and sweaters, pants and shoes that never even made it out of the drawers until now, outfits that went unworn, jackets that just sucked up space. So much waste. I really only needed about 10 shirts and 4 pairs of pants, tops. The only thing that would definitely stay is the number of shoes. How I love them (I've managed to increase my collection by three, but I'm getting rid of 2 pairs so it's almost even. Really.)

Anyway, it's just about time for my last class, and my last instructor goodbye. Last note, I must buy flowers for my host mom/family. Or something at the very least.

DON'T WANT TO LEAAAAAAAAAAAVE : (

A presto, so very very presto.

Homesickness, Pigeons, BEST PARTY EVER

I know I promised you all a little something on Venice, but really I just haven't been up for it. I promise that at some point your Venice needs will be fulfilled, but right now, I just want to write about all kinds of other things. I've only got about 4 days left in Siena, and only 10 more before I fly back to the States, and it all just feels so unreal. Also, this post is going to be disjointed. Deal with it : P

I miss home. After all this time, after all of the things I've seen, I miss home more than anything. As much as I want to stay here, and as much as I love this city and the people, I want to go home. I want to go back to the familiar, I want to drive my car, eat at a barbeque, crash in my own room, see my parents, hang out with my friends, be crazy and silly and have all of it back. I miss you guys, despite my lack of writing, I've missed you terribly. It's like a little bit of me is missing, and I can't wait to see you all again. I want to walk down Main Street, eat a muffin, drink some bubble tea, lay out on the Green, order late night food, watch Paula Deen, sip mixed drinks, and play Guitar Hero until my fingers turn into little throbbing knots.

*sigh*

Anyway, I've also discovered why you shouldn't mess around with pigeons. I was walking up at the Fortress the other day (the Fortress is this massive Medicean thing that they built when they took over Siena some however many years ago, and has recently become my favorite hobo nap spot. Seriously, take up a bench and pass out in the sun for a few hours, it's glorious), and I saw a pigeon strutting about on the sidewalk. Now, normally I let pigeons be, but this particular day I decided I wanted to chase it. Well, little did I know that the pigeon was packing. The little bugger pooped right on my arm. Disgusting. I hate pigeons.

Last little note of business, that I know you all are dying to hear (or not, really). Jane, Viv, and I "crashed" the Wrap Party for James Bond: Quantum of Solace two nights ago. We had been walking by one of the main camps where they had all their equipment and the trucks and one of the Brits heard us speaking English. He asked us what we were doing later that night, and then invited us to come stop by the wrap party if we wanted. It took all of three seconds for us to say yes. At about 10 we showed up outside Palazzo Pubblico, the main town hall in Piazza del Campo and didn't see the guy Steve that was supposed to let us in, so we sat in the piazza, debating what we should do. Finally, after a few swigs of vodka, we got up the nerve to just ask if we could go in. And they let us. This whole party was closed to the public, free food, free drinks, live band, in one of the oldest and coolest buildings in the city. We crashed the biggest party of the year in Siena. They held it in the courtyard, so all you had was open sky above, the place had probably a good 150 people in it.

We stood awkwardly for a little bit next to a pillar, then got up the nerve to go and get some drinks. Viv and I hit the bar while Jane went to the bathroom, and we ended up talking to some Brits and Jane met a really nice family from Canada. We found some other Americans, part of the film crew, actually I have no idea what they did, but one of the guys had been the Director of Photography for a different film, so I'm assuming it went along those kinds of lines. We also saw a whole bunch of the big important people, like the executive producer and some other guy who was the head of something else (he was American, that's all I really remember). The band was so so, but the songs they picked were awesome and we spent the entire night dancing (my feet are killing me now, four hours of dancing in heels never goes well). They ended up kicking us all out around 2, after which we headed back to this one groups room to drink some wine and hang out. Around 4 or so I passed out, I was so tired I just couldn't hack it anymore, and at 7:30 my host mom called my phone wondering where I was. Thankfully, they got us a cab to go home, and I finally walked in at 8, apologizing profusely for not calling and letting her know where I was.

Loved it.

A presto!