4,108 Miles + 143

Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible. This I did. This is my recollection of my trip from my trip to Italy. My goal is to make it as honest as possible while at the same time respecting those encountered throughout the course of my travels. I regretfully admit that I was unable to keep record of events while on the trip itself so all of these things are being relived from Boston with the aid of maps and photographs. I can only hope that I correctly relay the happenings and emotions of this trip unbiased by the ever-clear lens of hindsight. I don’t pretend to be impartial. Please take it as a personal narrative pieced together out of memory. This memoir might be more for me than anybody else so I apologize if it is rather wordy or haphazardly thrown together.

Prologue

Sometime in the Summer months of 2008 Audrey Torres, one of my closest and most valued friends, informed me that she was going to be studying in Italy come January 2009. I don’t remember exactly how it came to be but as it became more and more a reality that she was indeed going to Italy for a semester it somehow, probably as a joke, came up that I should visit her in Italy. By mid-October I booked a flight from Boston to Rome via Paris and that was that.
Within days of booking the flight, I had a travel companion, another one of my closest of friends, Shane Harris. I can honestly say that this trip would not have gone as smoothly or been as enjoyable in his absence. I don’t know if I could have made this trip without him. I often marvel at the fact that he and I have known each other less than two years yet in that short time have seen and done so much. One never knows when they meet an individual what kind of impact, if any, they will have on their life. I have no memory of being formally introduced to Shane but I am quite confident that even in my wildest of dreams I couldn’t have thought up half the things we’ve seen and done. Whether it be late night drives to Santa Cruz or late night walks in search of the Italian answer to the Taco trunk.
Soon after the much-welcomed addition of Shane to the trip another individual attached their name to the list, Anna Carlson. One could best define the nature of our friendship as turbulent. I am uncertain as to how things arrived as they did but I must admit that I’m sure I had a greater hand at the start in aiding in the demise of what was once a pleasant friendship way back when.
Later on Maureen “Mo” Mitchell was asked by Shane to accompany us on this trip and I was pleased when she was able to come. Both Mo and Shane attended to the intricacies of the trip, such as transportation within Italy and hostel reservations. I have to admit when it comes to things such as that I am pretty much helpless.
With all the other details of the trip worked out I anxiously awaited Mo’s arrival in Boston the Thursday before our departure when we would meet up with Anna at Logan and the three of us would rendezvous with Shane in Rome.

Chapter I

Mo arrived in Boston early Thursday evening. In a short time she had found her way via the T to Boston College. This was when the fact that I was leaving the United States for the first time, save a brief trip to Canada, really set in. For the longest time this seemed more like a made up game the four of us were playing. I never really stopped and thought about it. But once Mo was standing in front of me I realized, “Shit, I’m going to Italy tomorrow.”
After class Friday Mo and I left BC for the airport. I packed a medium sized Nike bag, which ultimately contained more than I would ever need on the trip. I am a pretty light packer by nature but in this case I still had too much. Mo and I made our way by T to the airport. As a side note I’ve never understood why anybody would pay $60 for a cab ride to the airport when the T runs you $1.70 and is only somewhat slower. Without any delay we made it to the airport and to Air France. This is where I ran into the first hiccup on the trip. Apparently, my bag was in that grey area between ok for a carry on and checked baggage. My mind instantly flew to images of me standing in an empty, drearly lit baggage claim area in Rome with my personal affects nowhere to be found. Luckily for me, Air France was looking out and I received the much coveted “Cabine” tag for my flight.
Once clearing security we saw Anna. I was impressed at how economical she was in her packing for the trip. She had a single backpack filled with anything and everything she could need yet it looked no bigger than a backpack you would see on any high school or college student. Instantly, I felt like the girl when it came to who packed what. In my defense, my bag was half full. Once we compared seat assignments Anna accused me of changing seats. I can truthfully say I had no hand it the seat switches. Still, I don’t think she believed me.
At the terminal I ran into Victoria Weiss and the rest of BC Chorale also preparing for a departure to Rome and Florence. She was gracious enough to give me an itinerary of their trip which allowed me to acclimate me to some of the sites in Rome and Florence as well as what to be on the look out for. It also made it clear that I should have take more care in gaining intelligence prior to the flight out of the country. Before boarding the plane I exchanged my money for euros. The exchange rate didn’t do me any type of justice. Euros are funny in my opinion. I do like how the bills are different sizes though. I exchanged a conservative amount for the trip as I was on a budget and had funds dedicated for primarily food and a few museums. I am happy to say that with the exception of 28 euros for two belts I my funds were used for their original purpose.
As our turn came to board the plane a mixture of emotions came over me. First looking at the sheer size of the massive 747 shook me up a little bit. It was hard to comprehend that something of that size was capable of sustained flight. Mo and I were lucky to find ourselves with a wall in front of us as we had the middle seats of a four person row in the upper center of the plane near the nose. This allowed us more legroom, which was utilized across the Atlantic. Also, as the plane started to taxi out it was weird to think that I was actually leaving the United States. True for only 8 days, which I realize is a very short amount of time all things being equal. But leaving one’s homeland always brings on some kind of emotion. For some it is welcomed others not so much. I had no problem leaving and was excited at the prospect of arriving in the land of my ancestors but at the same time some feeling I can’t really define came over me. There is no question, I am very patriotic and love America, even when it is tough to do so.
Whenever I leave the Bay Area for Boston or any destination I salute deck before we takeoff. This is most certainly the wannabe Navy Pilot in me as it is part of the takeoff procedure for pilots as they leave a carrier. At the Oakland airport I am looking at San Francisco- the City and place closest to my heart. This time there was an American Flag outside the window which I found appropriate. And with that the mighty 747 revved up and the United States was behind me.

Chapter II

The flight to Paris was, for all intensive purposes, very smooth. Air France is a fabulous airline and I would highly recommend it. Mo found our TVs hiding under our seats and I was content to watch Forrest Gump, Entourage, and Sex and the City (I won’t lie) as we made our way across the pond. They gave us quite a nice dinner and it was nice being able to order wine (which was free). Though the flight attendant did want to make sure I was 18. That was a first for me. I didn’t sleep at all during the duration of the flight and arrived in Paris somewhat fatigued.
The Paris airport was thought up by Satan, himself. This I am certain of. All of the terminals start with 2 and are then a letter from C-E. Of course, there are two 2E’s. We were told in Boston we would have ample time to make it from terminal 2E to 2F even though our lay over was just shy of an hour. We jumped off the plane and Anna led the way to the shuttle which was to take us to 2F. Of course it moved eerily slow and time was quickly running out. As we made it up to 2F we realized we had to go through customs. The line weaved back and forth and it didn’t seem logical that we could make it to the terminal in that time.
Out of the blue my French came back and I was told we could go into the expedited business line. Once we reached the front we were told otherwise and my French is not good enough to argue with the speed of my wit. Defeated we went back to the now even longer customs line. Along the way I met an American traveler, also a college student. I motioned for him to come up with us. This was the first time that I felt a greater sense of nationalism. Sort of like, Americans looking out for Americans. I have yet to really reflect on the significance of this but still feel like the notion of looking out for fellow Americans is a recurring them in the course of my travels.
We made it through Customs and my passport was stamped for the first time. Anna and Mo cleared before me and sprinted ahead to make the plane, or so we thought. It was instead the next hurdle, security. At this point it seemed clear we were not going to make our plane. This time after my pleading we made it to the business line and worked our way through security, which was very disjointed. At this point I think it is safe to say we were all running on anxiety and adrenaline. With my shoes on I sprinted for the gate in hopes of stalling it until Anna and Mo could make it. From what I saw the interior of Terminal 2F is exquisitely decorated. I could see our gate with the words Final Boarding flashing, success. We had made it. I don’t want to say I qualified for the Olympics during that sprint, but I qualified for the Olympics. Of course, it’s only fitting that the plane would remain at the gate for 15 minutes after our impromptu dash through the airport. We left Paris after some delays and thick fog that even San Francisco would have to respect. While the plane powered its way towards Rome the Italian Alps made their way into my window.
In a relatively short amount of flight time (at least compared to the first flight) we landed in Rome. The airport was huge and confusing as to where we were supposed to go. Not having any reason not to we decided to go straight. Anna led. I’m not sure for whose benefit but she did appear as if she knew where she was going. As I had no reason to suggest another route I followed along with Mo. We stopped to go to the bathroom. The first cultural shock: Italians don’t use paper towels. Instead there is a continuous almost linen like towel that is continuous. This would have been ok but I really needed to blow my nose.
Walking out of terminal was quite odd. I expected to have to once again go through customs but instead we simply walked out some sliding doors and there we were, in Rome. Anna later explained that since we were going from EU to EU going through Customs wasn’t necessary. I’m not sure if I totally believe this or if we just found a loophole in the terminal. But one thing was certain: we had made it to Italy.

Chapter III

All airports look the same on the inside, at least in my opinion. Sure they may be set up different but all things being equal there are a bunch of shops, a duty free place, and gates. This was also the case with the Da Vinci Aeroport. Anna and Mo were both hungry so we sought out food inside the terminal but thought better of it after looking at the first vendor. Remembering that we had to catch a train to Florence after meeting Shane we thought it well to inquire as to where the train station was. From there we moved on to terminal B to wait for Shane.
At this point we sat in a café inside the terminal and I made my first international purchase – a coke. I really didn’t taste that big of a difference to be honest. After waiting for not very long at all Shane emerged from the crowds. We had all made it safely to Italy and now the adventure was really underway.

Chapter IV

After catching up with each other at length we looked at our train tickets and saw that our train was to depart at 13:30 and so at 12:30 we made out way to the train station which is connected to the aeroport. Upon closer inspection Shane and I realized that the train leaving at 13:30 was the one we were supposed to take from the Roma Termini and not the aeroport station. Thus, we had a problem. We caught the first train we could for the Roma Termini but missed our train to Florence. On the train ride I was rather nervous as the houses that lined the tracks were very beaten down. This was my first reaction to Italy but as Shane pointed out, the cheapest housing is along train tracks. It was at this point where I was thankful that Shane was there. At times I can overreact or get stressed in a situation as that but Shane has a calm about him which transfers to all in his company and so it did with me. We then sought out where to go to get another train and find out what to do.
Nobody at the Termini gave us straight answers and we were set from place to place. At this point I was just taken aback by the sheer size of the Termini along with how many people where there. We went from ticket booth to ticket booth and then told we were to go to the main booth. We ended up walking through a shop and as I walked out the alarm went off. A guard came up to me and asked that I open my bag. Soon enough he realized that I hadn’t stolen anything and on we went. At the main booth we learned all we had to do was get on the next train and pay a total of 8 euro. Simple enough though that information would have been appreciated from the beginning. I am uncertain if it was because of all the reminders I had gotten from people or the fact that in general I am more self aware in big crowds but as we waited I was watching everybody. I had been warned of Italian pickpockets and so everybody was a possible target to me. Before long our train arrived and we were on our way to Florence.
I very much enjoyed our train ride. We had a quad set up and a table separating us, which allowed us to pass the time playing cards. While playing cards was a lot of fun I also loved taking in the Italian countryside. Once again as we drew nearer to Florence the houses along the tracks were beaten down and old. I guess I just naively expected the houses to look differently. Upon arrival in Florence I called Audrey and her roommate Taylor who then met us in front of a McDonald’s.
It was rather odd seeing Audrey in this context. For the entirety of our friendship we have only known each other in the Bay Area so to see such a close friend established and prospering in such a distant land was a little mind boggling. Now at this point Shane wasn’t exactly clear where the hostel was but at the train station they gave us a basic idea of where we were supposed to go. So we walked down the street bags and all until we arrived at a hostel. The only problem was that it wasn’t our hostel. After getting the address courtesy of Anna’s iphone Taylor or as we came to call her, “Mapquest” traced a route for us. The only problem? We had to walk to the other side of the city. One we went walking for close to an hour. This would become a normal walk for us but the added weight of bags and lack of sleep didn’t aid us in our travel.
Turning down the street our hostel came into view and at first we were all concerned. It looked like a shack. Entering into check in didn’t quell our fears. As we made out way to the room I held my breath as the door opened. And as the lights flickered on I let out a sigh of relief. The room was very nice with four beds and our own bathroom. Shane and I got to business and pushed all four beds together.
Settling into the hostel we set out to find dinner. Our travels let us to a pizza parlor and then to a nearby supermarket where Shane and I found an 86 cent bottle of wine. Never again. The wine tasted like white grape juice. After eating back in the hostel we all fell asleep for and slept relatively soundly for the night except for Shane and myself as we were both stricken with a cough.

The Day Before

We are looking at 29 hours until we're flying over the Atlantic and headed into Europe. Shane has safely arrived in Londontown. There are still some loose ends to tie up here before I head out but it is partially setting in that tonight is the last night I'll be sleeping in the US for awhile. Still, there are a myriad of emotions circling my head. As I sit here and type Mo is jetting from Oakland towards Logan. I guess this is the first part of the trip where it gets official. Basically, once Mo is here I am in travel mode. Perhaps it was the way I was raised or the fact that starting at age 14 I was mobile and in San Francisco but I'm always watching people when in transit. Who is this guy? Why is he coming at me at that angle? Threat? No. Move on to the next person. We're coming up to an alley, time to put myself closest to the alley and then move on. So basically, starting this afternoon I'm not going to rest until I know that Anna and Mo are safely back home. Probably not the best way to live life but it is what I do. Regardless there will be time to relax and have fun. Still I gotta be heads up seven up. In just a few hours I'll be in a land I've only read about and seen in pictures. I must admit that I am still nervous but filled with excitement as well. I like being in control in every situation and it is clear that as we travel I am going to be faced with challenges in which I don't have a working knowledge of the language nor with the land. Luckily, when you have Joe and add Shane things just work and even if they don't, like our boy Will Smith, we make it look good.

Pre-Italia

Brittany suggested that I blog about the trip to Italy and I happen to think that that is a fantastic idea. I'm not sure how many times I'll have access to a computer over the course of the trip but regardless I think it is important that I commit this journey to paper (or in this case the internet). So every journey needs a point of origin so up until we are wheels up I think I should write about the preparations for the trip.

As it stands now I am done little to get ready for this trip. Barely have any money in my checking account. I need to really step that up because this just doesn't play. I'm just concerned because I have a lot of expenses right now and no source of income. Leases aren't cheap, neither is jumping the Atlantic. There are days where I want my credit card to be taken away and just thrown somewhere. It truly is the devil.
In 8 days MoMo gets to Boston and one could say the trip has officially started from that point on. The next day we'll rendezvous with Anna at Logan and then off to Terminal E to head to Paris and then on to Rome. My understanding is that we are renting a car and driving to Florence. Of course this trip will be a bounty of memories and stories but how special it is that we will find ourselves driving across a foreign country.
It just seems so foreign to me (pun intended) that we will be in a car but in a different atmosphere. How many summer nights have seen Shane and I either in Aloe or the JT Cruiser heading to some party in Alameda? This time we find ourselves driving Italy. I suppose that I am continuely amazed that I have found friends who share my sense of adventure and don't even let geography keep them down. I also recongize what a blessing it is to be able to do things like this. In 10 years I doubt I'll remember the stresses I am feeling as I prepare for a show and midterms. However, I will remember that thrill and adventure that will be mine and my companions in Italy.
At this point I am anxious to get going and to experience this new world. I have no expectations execept to expect the unexpected. All I really want is to make reality an evening in Italy with a bottle of wine, a cigar, and the sharing of stories. I feel as though whenever anybody leaves what is normal to them they grow. I don't expect to go through a life changing experience during this exodus but I do think there will be some sort of growth and personal understanding. I am just happy to know that this is a trip undertaken among friends.

Shaking

Reviewing my previous posts there have been highs and lows. But a constant runs through them all. I talk about the weather way too much. Sure, I could argue that weather can play a huge role on how one views their day or even remembers it. But in the same way that the mind can play tricks on the body so too can the weather on the soul.
This blog's original purpose was to be a means for me to look within myself, thus the title borrowed from Stevie Wonder- Innervisions. And yet, I feel I have strayed from that. At times I may write things with an intended audience of whom I am not able to speak with or must reflect deeper in order to formulate the message I wish to convey. Other times it has served the very important role of allowing me to clear my mind of troubles collected through the days. Some of commented that humor is often missing. I am starting to think my humor is only applicable in social situations and is not a skill readily turned on and off. Even worse is the fact that at times when I have thought it wasn't in use it made its way to the main stage and things got ugly. But that is that.
I've been reading a lot of Shakespeare as of late. And by a lot I mean that I'll read a sonnet or part of a play (usually a page) whenever I have a moment. I am continually struck at the enduring qualities of his work. True, Shakespeare may not be one man but many individuals. I don't trouble my mind with those burdens but rather read whomever's words have been come to be known as Shakespeare's. There is a lot of truth there. Often hidden or hard to discern and yet I find myself toiling to try and figure out exactly what each line is saying. Sometimes I get it and other times I am more confused than poor Othello. Such is life.
I am very curious about what this new adventure I've set out on holds in store for me. Things were at a standstill for months and then, like the phoenix, what I thought were ashes of dreams deferred came something completely new. Time moved slow and then in a blink of an eye and the change of a year time decided to speed itself up simply because it can. And so here we are asking ourselves new questions- who? what? when? where? why? I feel like time should slow itself down once more so that I might at least take time to enjoy the journey. I am unconcerned with the destination. I just hope the road ahead is smooth and while this is clearly naive a small part of me already hopes the road is endless. I don't want there to be a destination but rather a new junction to explore. Why can't that be reality? It wouldn't be that out of the ordinary.
I think Othello is speaking for me, "Speak of me as I am; nothing farfetched,
And don’t write anything in malice. Then you must speak
Of one that loved not wisely, but too well;"

I think you'll make me wise.

That point in the winter

We've gotten to that point in the winter where it seems as though it is an endless plateau. Today teased me with brief 50 degree weather and basketball shorts and a t-shirt were the acceptable attire for the afternoon, both indoors and out. But as they generally do the elements quickly changed and we were cast back into 34 degree weather. No matter. Though that 50 degree weather reminded me of what lays ahead. Italy. More fun times at school then those perfect summer months. The prospect of what lays ahead fills me with joy and reservations.
I guess I've always thought of myself as a member of the Dream Team for awhile. Perhaps this spawned out of the Summer '07 line up. It would have been pretty sweet if our t-shirts were as timeless as the '05. That is a mean throwback. And now it is apparent that there will only be two members of that Dream Team back for the '09 season. At least on the active day to day roster. How odd it is to think about that at length. Shane you know that there is nobody I rather be working with as Supervisor and with your experience and the fact that you are held in well deserved high regard at the HBC assures me that what lays ahead won't trip us up. We could handle a lamination machine after all. But as early clock ins and field trip days fill my head I have to admit that my mind is unsure of what the dynamic will be like. Sure there will be beautiful people to share and make memories with and the good times will abound. But it is going to be hard not to see some of the faces that in mind have always been synonymous with my summers. There is no doubt those faces will make cameos but not seeing them on a day to day basis is going to be unnerving to say the least. However, there are those who maybe weren't there in '07 but are still near and dear to my heart. Come what will.
These days I find myself more and more unsure of myself. I don't know if this is just a point in time in which I am going through a catharsis and change or if I am stagnant. I foster great hope that it is in fact the catharsis similiar in type to Caulfied's but without the shattered record and without explusion. A run in with a prostitute is also not prefered. Maybe this is just another part of growing up. I really don't know. I know where my ship wants to sail. Just give me time to get my bearings and then I am off to open sea. This ship is nuclear powered so forget the wind in my sails.
Each day Italy gets closer and the anxiety and excitement increases. I have no idea what awaits me and my companions and that is enough to double the excitement. Being in the company of great friends is the only prerequisite for this transatlantic adventure.
As the days pass and my enviornment doesn't the yearning to travel is also growing. You only have one life and I want to see as much of this rock as possible. I want to investiage it all and write about it.
I've also been contimplating writing my autobiography from the beginning to now and updating it over time. I want it to be the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I don't intend it to be read except maybe my family after the sun in my hour glass has run out. Ha, as if I have time for more reading and writing.
Coming home for Spring Break is going to be something new and different.
At some point I'm going to have to tell you. I almost did it last week but your seas have been graced by the tempest so I'll send word to you once the swells have calmed and the deck is no longer pitching. I only worry that will turn my pebble into a boulder capable of again interrupting your newly calm seas and I know that is a burden you don't need. But I respect you and have always been honest. I just don't know if you are ready for this news and to accept that while you watch the horizon I've gone out to see what the seas have in store for me and my port of call and yours in not the same. My anchors have been aweigh while I fear you've been circling the harbor. A ship is safe in harbor but that isn't what ships are for.
This entire weekend was something else. Weekends starting Thursday are more than alright with me. Having one class on Thursday and Friday are a God send. The memories and highs and lows of this weekend were enough for me. Last night especially. I'm sorry to say my wandering eyes and curiosity might have taken me into a questionable area but the information obtained there has afforded me the opprotunity to hear what you can't say. I'll take that information to heart and do my best to quell any and all inqueries. But I can't stop doing what comes naturally to me and will continue to keep the lines of communication open to all.
I highly recommend that anybody in the Boston area plans an excursion to the New England Aquarium. While it packs a healthy admission fee the vast aquatic life inside is well worth it. The penguins alone did it for me.

Write, right?

Sometimes I wish I was a writer. I wish my words could sweep people away from wherever they are and take them to the most beautiful of lands. From the beaches of Normandy to the a czar's castle in Russia. But, alas, my command of the written word is unexceptional. The ability to effectively paint the pictures that find residence in my mind is lacking. I guess I just don't have the right brushes or paints. I have stories to tell and journeys to embark on but the means of travel isn't the written word. I guess oral history would have been my way of doing things. Would that make Homer my inspiration?
In the same vein I find myself appreciating the true literary greats even more. I feel that to really appreciate any type of talent you have to at least try it yourself to gain a full respect for it. For example, I can't sing to save my life. I'm ok with that. As a result I can appreciate what it takes for others to share that gift with the world. This applies to every facet of the human experience. However, I think we sometimes forget that there are things that each of us can do like nobody else. Whether we chose to recognize it or not each and every one of us harbors a special gift. Sure some may appear to me more extraordinary than others but we can all do something. The challenge is to accept what we can do and share those gifts with the world.

Stevie Wonder Does Me Right

Any combination of Stevie Wonder and James Taylor can make even the gloomiest days perfect to me. Outside my window I see a flurry of snow spinning in endless circles until each unique flake hits the earth and becomes one united white blanket covering the green grass and our hopes and dreams. The remedy? Stevie Wonder, songs in the Key of Life. For whatever reason I can just let loose and I forget about the elements that await me as I begin the process of getting ready to go to class. Tuesdays are rough business. They drag on like it is their job. Joe does not approve. But such is life. I should really stop complaining about the weather. All things being equal it is no big thing. Rain is a lot worse than snow. However, I honestly believe that the weather affects an individual's well being. Yesterday I saw blue skies and the sun for the first time in recent memory. The sun's warmth revitalized me and for whatever reason yesterday was just one of those days that you fall asleep thinking, "this was good." I should probably be reading for procrastination is the name of the game here. I think I'll go make some green tea. Have yourself a good day.