Ciao bellas! So I am officially here in Milano. How I arrived here is quite the unusual story. After an uneventful flight to Roma, I was delayed in the most un-TSA sanctioned security line. Essentially it was a mob of people waiting to go through the body scanner without even taking off their shoes! I cringe to think of all of the shoelaces that made it on to airplanes this afternoon and could have been used to strangle unsuspecting passengers. This untimely delay caused a mad sprint of IES program participants to various connecting flights to Milano. Panting (due to the fact that recently I have been getting juiced by pumping iron at the gym rather than partaking in my usual cardio), I arrive at B23 where I am greeted by a woman in Italian who has clearly been waiting just for me. Thankfully, the plane was held and I board a lovely Alitalia Express jet. So distracted by the fact that I have not one, but two plush leather seats and champagne, I am not bothered by the fact that none of the other students are on the same flight as me. We're all headed to Milano afterall, right? WRONG! My plane did not in fact take me to Milano, it landed at the Orio al Serio airport in nearby Bergamo. Upon this realization the normal Sam reaction would be a complete panic, but maybe it was the champagne or maybe it was my Mimi's voice playing in my head, but I remained calm and waited for my luggage to come off the conveyor belt. I managed to hoist my previously discussed cargo off the line to discover that my 70+ lb. red suitcase had a wheel completely torn off of it! Yes, I was left with an overweight tripod along with my other large suitcase, smaller wheeled suitcase, fur coat, and large tote. Keeping my zen face on, I decided to use my handy Italian cell phone to call the program coordinator to ask for advice. So much for overnight shipping and hours of reading through instructions to register and activate my feather-light candy bar contraption passed off as a cell phone (can you feel the bitterness of an iPhone 4 user on an unlimited account?), my phone was speaking to me in Italian when I tried to dial and whatever it was saying it was not good. Thank goodness said iPhone was still in my bag and Internationally prepped because I busted it out and called the IES emergency hotline. "Hello, this is Samantha, I landed at the wrong airport," I say. "There are no wrong airports. All of our airports in Italy are very nice," is the response I receive. Would I call an emergency hotline for a sales pitch of Italian airport facilities? For those of you still pondering this answer, no I would not. It was time for answers! After a few more minutes of conversing with Italy's hostess with the mostess, I learned I must buy a bus ticket to the Cardona station and then take a taxi. I bought the ticket. Check. I hobbled with my heavy tripod and friends outside. Pause. Pause a little longer. Man in a tailored business suit, speaking no English, comes and assists me with my luggage to a bus. I think there were several jokes between my savior and the bus driver about all these bags for one little girl, but I was just relieved to have made it that far with as few blisters as I had developed getting my belongings through the airport. Mom, for the record, I cannot stack my bags because they are taller than me and people stare even more. I am already a target for flirting and theft. The bus ride was about an hour, most of which I slept through. Cardona station offered a similar situation to the airport trying to hobble with my luggage, only this time it was on cobblestone and in the rain. I decided to implement Plan Pause again to see if I had the same positive results. I'd rate it as slightly less successful because I had to fend off street vendors shoving umbrellas and roses at me, but then a man appeared with a cart and an umbrella and loaded me up. I told him I needed a taxi and he took me to one for the low price of 10 Euros. I was hardly in the position to argue. I believe he was in collusion with the cab driver, because despite our shared hair color, I believe she drove me around the city a couple of times before reaching my apartment. It's all water under the bridge now, though, because I arrived at the most lovely apartment with the sweetest doorman! More on my new home to come!
ciao ciao! xoxo's!
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