Ciao from Bologna!! The only thing I can say is w o w. There is so much to tell, after a mere five days, I don’t know if I’ll ever have enough time to tell it all. I guess let’s start off with my travels from CT to NY to Paris to Bologna.
Wednesday and Thursday of last week were thee longest days of my life. I left home around 2:15pm, which seems a bit ridiculous for a 7pm flight out of JFK, but my dad was right, yet again. Every line that you can think of was unreal. I was able to check my bags in quickly because I did the on-line check in before I left (which I recommend to anyone flying international – ahem girls!), so my mom, dad, and I went upstairs to the food-court and relaxed for about a half hour, then it was off to security check which was just as ridiculous as you can imagine. I hugged my parent’s goodbye and of course we were all crying like a bunch of saps. I schlepped my way through the line, occasionally looking over at my mom bawling, feeling like a fish out of water. Everyone around me was talking in a different language, staring at me because for once, I was the minority. I finally got through security, gave mom and dad a final wave, and started my journey down what seemed like the longest corridor to my gate. I sat there, hoping I’d see an American who was feeling what I felt, but seeing nothing but foreigners who couldn’t wait to get back to their countries. I was overwhelmed with feelings. I didn’t know what to do, so I started texting everyone my final goodbyes, calling my parents, brother, aunt, hoping someone would magically appear and make me feel better. The tears started flowing down my face and nothing could stop them. The people around me must have thought someone died. I kept telling myself to get it together or they weren’t going to let me on the plane. That’s where my buddy Xanax comes in to help. I remember stepping onto the plane and trying to lift my jaw off the ground; the people in first class literally had a bed and five rows worth of room all to themselves. I made my way back to row 26 seat A, (window seat, niiiice) and no one was there yet (double niiiceee)! I blew up my little neck pillow, threw my brothers sweatshirt on, wrapped the blanket around me and I was down for the count. Falling asleep at 7pm and waking up, on a plane, at 5am was one of the weirdest things I’ve ever encountered. So, another half of Xanax and next thing I knew, I was 20 minutes from landing in Paris.
Well aside from the fact that I looked like and felt like a complete zombie, I got off the plane and had to go through a maze, customs being someplace in the middle; luckily that went smoothly because I was in no shape or form to talk to anyone or answer any kinds of questions. So, now that its sometime after 8am, at this point I had been traveling for close to 12 hours, one would think that getting off at gate 2D and getting back on a plane at gate 2E would be rather simple; WRONG. Not only did I walk at least 2 miles (okay okay maybe not 2 miles but it definitely felt like it), stop and ask for directions twice, but by the time I made it to gate 2E I had to go through security AGAIN. Okay, I thought, customs, security; check. Get me to bologna. I then look up and realize that even though I was at gate 2E, I had to walk to terminal 73 and take a bus to the plane. WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT, WHAT?! Bus to the plane? 80 terminals in one gate? I don’t get it. Not only was I clueless, but finding someone who wasn’t mean muggin’ me and spoke English was harder than finding a needle in a haystack. So, by the time I get to terminal 73 and hand my boarding pass to the French speaking Chinese man, he looked at me with a blank stare and mumbled “no more.” NO MORE I said… NO MORE WHAT! “Plane, no more plane, left already.” (cue the tears) - NOW WHAT, I asked. And the only English I got from his response was customer service.
SO – I call mom and dad who knew something was wrong because at this point it was close to 9am my time and I should have already been on my way to Bologna. Imagine little ol’ me; tears (and I’m sure more than enough mascara) streaming down my face, with my Tory Burch bag on one shoulder and my Louis Vuitton duffle strapped across my body, trying to figure out my ass from my elbow in a foreign country. Thankfully the lady at customer service spoke English, and she put me on a 1:05 plane to Bologna (my advice to all – don’t land in Paris if you don’t need to – and don’t land in Paris if you have under an hour between connecting flights). I was starving, exhausted and emotionally spent. I just wanted to be anywhere other than on a plane or in an airport. I was way too tired to take my bags back upstairs and find food so I passed out for a good two hours before taking a shuttle to the plane. I strapped myself in, said a quick ‘Hail Mary’ and passed out, again. Next thing I know, I’m walking into the airport and the first sign I see says, “BOLOGNA AT LAST.” I took a deep breath, smiled and said, finally, here we go! I waited for my luggage which surprisingly made it on my flight and saw Max and Giorgio coming towards me! “CIAO, CIAO! So sorry we’re late.” He said, kissing both cheeks like a typical Italian. I apologized repeatedly for missing my flight and coming in later than I was supposed to, but he didn’t mind, thankfully. Giorgio was so cute, even cuter than the pictures. Max tried his best to speak to me in English, but our conversations weren’t very extensive. Around 3:30pm, close to 25 hours later, I finally arrived at Via Guglielmo Marconi, 47; Bologna, Italy…
And the rest, my friends, is for another day.
Best wishes & God Bless
XOXX JLI
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