Hello! I am officially in Firenze! It has been a longer than long day, and here I sit munching on my first Florentine piece of pizza …and a diet coke. How Italian, indeed! My feet hurt, my back hurts and I am emotionally drained! And still without a room mate? What up with that? Or as the Italians would say….what up with that marco polo?
To start at the beginning of this advent-yah (you must say it royally), mamma drove me to Charlotte. I cried 27 times on the way. It was fun. I was dropped off at the Charlotte airport , and as I was checking in I ALMOST clicked upgrade to first class, but I didn’t. Much to my chagrin.
The plane was fine. I sat beside a woman who talked just the right amount. At the end of the trip she pointed another girl out to me who was headed to Florence, and while this “other girl” was not doing my program, we soldiered on together, and she saved the day at customs. The line was moving miserably slow, and it was hot. The kind of hot where I was pondering if anyone would help me if I fainted. They all looked as grumpy as I felt. BUT, Caitlin asked the man who was directing people if we should be concerned about missing our flight that was in an hour….AND HE WALKED US TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE! We really were in a rush because we thought we had to claim our bags then recheck our bags, and get new boarding passes. As it turns out, our plane was delayed half an hour, so we were fine.
On the plane to London, I just so happened to be surrounded by alkies (sp?). The woman beside me, as nice as she was, had three mini bottles of wine. The guys behind me just kept their drinks coming. And one man, 5 minutes after take off asks one of the attendants “Is there gonna be vodka offered?”!
My first very hooey moment of the trip was when I was going through security at Gatwick, and the man who was directing us told me “well done” when I didn’t make the alarms sound. He had the best british accent, and I think that’s when it hit me that I was in a different country. I replied “WHY THANK YOU, but in what I am realizing is a southern accent. Whenever I say “Mi scuzi” (excuse me) because I am trying to be at least a little Italian, It comes out exactly the same way I say excuse me at home. (Kind of squeaky at the end).
Now, when I REALLY realized that hooey hit Italy, was when I was trying to unlock the door to the apartment building, and I was pulling on it, and pulling on it. It was to the point where I thought I would have to walk back to the rental agency and get a different key, when it occurred to me….push the door.
Now that wasn’t nearly as bad as not realizing that the “first floor” was really the basement. This is a good thing to realize before you struggle with a key so much that an old Italian woman starts yelling at you from the doorway. So, as she was yelling at me, I sat down on the steps and called the rental agency. I was on the wrong floor.
Luckily after that I was pretttty normal. I was getting ready to go find an internet café when one of my apartment mates walked in the door. Her name is Julie and she is very nice! She is from Florida where I think some of mamma’s yankee rules apply. She is very forceful. But I don’t think she is ever intentionally being rude. Brittney, Julie’s roommate, is from Texas and is really sweet. Her class is being offered through the University of the Arts, not the culinary school. So I will have one friendly face at all the orientation sessions tomorrow.
We went grocery shopping at the coop (mamma! Here it is pronounced coop-ah). I didn’t get a lot, but I did drag some bottles of water back across town. Stupid idea. Yes. But now I will be hydrated.
Tomorrow I have orientation sessions for the University of the Arts. We take a walking tour, learn some things about Italy, and there is a reception at the restaurant where we get our meal vouchers.
This weekend I am going to do something fun…not quite sure what yet. It is the agony of the privileged. There is just too much cool stuff to do. I might get up early on Friday and Saturday and hike to the top of the Duomo, the building that provided the inspiration for First Baptist Church of Asheville.
I promise that this is almost over! On my walk today I find it fascinating that the architecture is gorgeous, but then all of the sudden a giant dome or steeple crests over the rooftops. It’s cool. I still don’t think I fully realize that I am here, but its been an interesting day to say the least.
Love you all!
Bella Busey
(MAMMA- I TOOK A PICTURE OF A DOOR TODAY!)
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