Hopping the Pond

Bongiorno! What a day it has been. Actually, two. Three? I can’t quite tell. We made it to Florence though! So Tuesday was just like any other day as we went to school, except for the pile of bags by each of our doors. As we sat in music class with Caleb, our drivers, Mr. Bortins, Mr. Bianco, and Mrs. Harvey, drove to the villas and loaded the cars. Mrs. Bortins arrived at the house a little before noon, and we left almost immediately. The ride there was cramped, hot, and smelly— at least for the guys. The girls enjoyed a little more leg space, and the chaperones had more room than they could use. C’est la vie. It gave us some perspective later, when we were on the plane.

We got to the airport with five hours to spare and set out to enjoy ourselves. We parked our bags by the gate and split up to explore the airport. Something about airports brings out a spirit of playfulness in me. Maybe it’s the fact that everyone there is in transit and won’t see me again, or maybe because airports themselves are still so new to me. I don’t know, but I couldn't sit still. We all moved around quite a bit, adventuring here and there, visiting shops and restaurants, always returning to the group of card-players, readers, and nappers. The time seemed to fly by, and before we knew it, we were boarding the plane to Rome. The time was six o’clock. Flying with a group was a new experience for me, and I enjoyed hopping around from seat to seat, trading companions every so often. Eventually though, I got stuck in a cramped seat on the aisle, and spent the rest of the flight somewhat uncomfortably.

We landed in Rome at nine AM, and promptly set to exploring the city. Our guide Pietro met us at the gate and we took a bus to the city center, then walked to Saint Peter's Basilica. We only had a few hours to spend in Rome, but we decided to splurge on time and money and enter the majestic building. We were amazed. The sheer scale was overwhelming, with every inch of the walls and ceiling covered with ornate decorations. Every little alcove literally hid a priceless work of art— I wandered for half an hour before I noticed the Pieta sitting behind a wall of glass. We gathered in the entryway, waiting for everyone. Unfortunately, our headcount was off, and we didn't notice until we were well out of the building, that our photographer, Austin, had disappeared, engrossed in the sights. He became the first straggler of many.

Pietro led us through the city and over the Tiber river, past a huge old fortress. Street venders called to us, crowds jostled us, and we laughed our way to dinner at a sweet little indoor eatery, so far out of the way of normal tours that they didn't speak english. Ordering Italian food, in Italian, from Italians, was quite an experience. Most of us ended up with our own personal fourteen inch pizzas. That being said, the food was excellent. We tossed around Italian phrases from Anna Harvey's book, and Caleb got way too excited at everything. He's enjoying Italy to no end.

We finished and left for the bus, our brief stay in Rome exhausted and exhausting. Whether or not we slept on the plane, we were all tired, and the bus to Florence was full of sleeping bodies. The last hour into Florence passed quickly as we strained our eyes to catch every detail about the countryside. The first difference I noticed from America was the dirt. The clayish brown earth, tossed up in large unbroken clods, was unlike the darker loam in Vermont, or the sandy soil of North Carolina. We arrived in Florence in the afternoon, bussed through the city, and walked to the Villa Morghen from the square at Settignano. I had heard a lot of racial stereotypes about Italian drivers, but I never expected them to all be true. These people are the fastest and most controlled drivers I have ever seen, whether they're piloting a Vespa or a bus.

We settled in, napped, cleaned up, and met for dinner at seven. While our hunger certainly contributed to the quality of the meal, I have no doubt that the homemade lasagna and fresh Italian bread were the best I've ever had. It was an amazing meal. With nothing else on our agenda, we spent the rest of the evening lounging on the porch, drinking in the beautiful city and the rays from the setting sun. We turned in early, preparing for a long day in Florence.