Traveling to and fro.
So, let's start with the beginning, end with the end, and then next time I'll tell you about alllll that happened in between, promise.
So, I started my journey early on a Friday morning, around 5:30 am to be a bit more precise. I took a bus to the train station, caught the train to Rome where I caught another train to another bus that took me to the airport, where I was several hours early for my flight. Better to be extra early than just a little too late, right? Right, unless your flight is delayed 4 and a half hours, which it was. Well, so, after lots of waiting in the land beyond passport control, which is considered to be no land at all, we hopped a small bus to the plane and landed in Bucharest, Romania around midnight. The delay would not have been such a drag, except that upon my arrival I had to meet my friend and then begin the, supposed, five hour drive north to their city of Falticeni (Fall-te-chain). Florin and his son Razvan picked me up in the airport and looked a little distraught as we embarked on the last leg of our journey (our days had been of equal length and travel to this point). The night was dark and foggy, and the roads...the word "rough" just isn't a fair description of their condition.
After grabbing a burger (yes I caved and ate McDonald's) and some "light" conversation, Florin told me that it was okay to sleep, so I nodded off. Well, so, five hours was around 5 am, and we were definitely not home. In fact, at around 5 am, I perked up and realized we were not moving. I look out the window and can see only darkness in all directions, then I look for Florin. He was asleep. So there we were, in the middle of nowhere (we were "somewhere," but nowhere that I new of), stopped on the side of the road, Romania. So, feeling safe (?), I nod back off to sleep, hoping that whatever was to happen, good or bad, would just happen while I was asleep. Around 8 am we arrived in Falticeni, watching the sunrise over the crystal white Romanian landscape. It was a beautiful sight, in so many ways.
Then we had Christmas. (Remember, I promised to write about the in between part in the next post)
Traveling back to Italy was a solo adventure. I packed myself into the back of a bus on the following Friday night at 10 pm, slept for most of the 7 hours it took to get to Bucharest, caught a taxi to the teensy tiny airport, and sat for hours. Then I stood up for a few hours. Then, when I was informed that my flight was delayed, I stood up for a couple more hours.
We boarded the plane, made it to Italy, and then I waited for a bus that never came to take me to the train station, at which point I caught a pricey taxi just so I didn't miss the last train out of Roma that would get me to Perugia that night. I caught the train with moments to spare, caught the bus connection in Foligno, caught my last bus from the Perugia train station to my street, and by 1am, I had collapsed in my bed after a 27 hour journey home (there was an hour time difference).
A question that came to mind when I was lamenting my sore arms, back, legs and aching head was this: "Was it worth it?" Well, I'll let you judge for yourself after you've seen the pictures...next time, because the weather is bad in Italy and none of the computers are working well enough to post pictures! Sorry! Don't hate me!
Love you all!
~Grace
So, I started my journey early on a Friday morning, around 5:30 am to be a bit more precise. I took a bus to the train station, caught the train to Rome where I caught another train to another bus that took me to the airport, where I was several hours early for my flight. Better to be extra early than just a little too late, right? Right, unless your flight is delayed 4 and a half hours, which it was. Well, so, after lots of waiting in the land beyond passport control, which is considered to be no land at all, we hopped a small bus to the plane and landed in Bucharest, Romania around midnight. The delay would not have been such a drag, except that upon my arrival I had to meet my friend and then begin the, supposed, five hour drive north to their city of Falticeni (Fall-te-chain). Florin and his son Razvan picked me up in the airport and looked a little distraught as we embarked on the last leg of our journey (our days had been of equal length and travel to this point). The night was dark and foggy, and the roads...the word "rough" just isn't a fair description of their condition.
After grabbing a burger (yes I caved and ate McDonald's) and some "light" conversation, Florin told me that it was okay to sleep, so I nodded off. Well, so, five hours was around 5 am, and we were definitely not home. In fact, at around 5 am, I perked up and realized we were not moving. I look out the window and can see only darkness in all directions, then I look for Florin. He was asleep. So there we were, in the middle of nowhere (we were "somewhere," but nowhere that I new of), stopped on the side of the road, Romania. So, feeling safe (?), I nod back off to sleep, hoping that whatever was to happen, good or bad, would just happen while I was asleep. Around 8 am we arrived in Falticeni, watching the sunrise over the crystal white Romanian landscape. It was a beautiful sight, in so many ways.
Then we had Christmas. (Remember, I promised to write about the in between part in the next post)
Traveling back to Italy was a solo adventure. I packed myself into the back of a bus on the following Friday night at 10 pm, slept for most of the 7 hours it took to get to Bucharest, caught a taxi to the teensy tiny airport, and sat for hours. Then I stood up for a few hours. Then, when I was informed that my flight was delayed, I stood up for a couple more hours.
We boarded the plane, made it to Italy, and then I waited for a bus that never came to take me to the train station, at which point I caught a pricey taxi just so I didn't miss the last train out of Roma that would get me to Perugia that night. I caught the train with moments to spare, caught the bus connection in Foligno, caught my last bus from the Perugia train station to my street, and by 1am, I had collapsed in my bed after a 27 hour journey home (there was an hour time difference).
A question that came to mind when I was lamenting my sore arms, back, legs and aching head was this: "Was it worth it?" Well, I'll let you judge for yourself after you've seen the pictures...next time, because the weather is bad in Italy and none of the computers are working well enough to post pictures! Sorry! Don't hate me!
Love you all!
~Grace
posted by Unknown at 8:12 AM
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