Roma, here we come!

Preparations for my trip overseas, like always, took three times longer than I had imagined. Not only was I packing for ten weeks in a foreign country, but simultaneously moving my belongings out of my best friends’ parent’s house and into a 5x5 storage unit. I finally sealed the latch on my storage unit around 11:30 pm with my dad warning me about the jumbled mess that is likely to spring out from the unit upon re-opening. After saying a few goodbyes, I took a car full of my belongings to the hotel where my parents were staying. My mom loves packing and organizing, which is most likely why I do not, and also why I allowed her the wonderful opportunity of packing my suitcase at two in the morning. The realization of the trip had not yet sunk in, and without a minute to spare I made my way to the airport and was on my way. Pulling an all-nighter allowed me to fall asleep quick, easy, and for the entirety of the flights to Denver and Charlotte. The passengers nearby were either entertained, disgusted, or both by my wide open mouth drooling and making sounds only a wind tunnel could reproduce. During my long layover in Charlotte, I decided to make my way over to my terminal and possible grab a beer. Luckily, when I rounded the corner, I saw that the other passengers were already beginning to board my flight. I made it onto the plane and after arguing with the women claiming to have my seat, I sheepishly got up and moved to my correct and assigned spot. I fell asleep shortly after take off for what seemed like several hours. When I woke up, the family that I was seated within spoke of the current time…NO WAY!? There was not a possible way in my mind that only one mere hour had passed since we boarded the plane. The remainder of that trip is hazy now, but I recall fading in and out while listening to a combination of wining babies, old men snorting, and the crinkling of a plastic water bottle. I wanted to strangle the eight-year-old with the snapping, crackling, and popping bottle of water sitting directly next to and often on top of me. Getting off the plane, I was anxious that I may not find my best friend Ellen. If I did not find her, I may be getting right back on the plane to America, or at least that’s how I felt at the time. Luckily, and like usual, our brains were on the same page and we met at the baggage claim. Converting money for the first time was completely eye-opening and horribly depressing. One euro is equivalent to roughly $1.44 American. With a roll-away suitcase, a backpack, and a purse (a slightly smaller suitcase that I pretend is a purse), we made it to our correct bus. After three long, sweaty, sweaty hours, wearing black pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and sandals, we finally decided to resort to a taxi. Do you know how difficult it is to flag down a taxi? Not as easy as they make it look on Sex and the City. . In fact, it’s about as difficult as hauling 60 pounds of luggage over cobblestone streets. Wheels are great when they have a surface to “wheel” on. Nevertheless, we got a cab whose driver told us we were within walking distance. He took us to the hotel and as we began carrying our baggage up three flights of stairs, we realized we were at the “boys” hotel. Ahhhhhhhhh! Walking through the streets, the smell of urine was apparent and the traffic insane. Not much room to walk between the traffic, people, restaurants and vendors. As we maneuvered our through, I became more and more comfortable with using “Scusi,” but kept ruining my Italian accent by following up with a blurted out “gracias.” Our hotel was only a short walk, and upon arrival we collapsed, exposing sweat-covered shirts and filthy black feet. The hotel, Residenzia Zanardelli was, to our surprise, quite nice. Aside from being a tad bit smaller than most hotels in America, it was clean and equipped with a full bathroom. The Moak’s, along with a few other students had not yet arrived by dinner time, causing us to disperse and get dinner on our own. Ellen and I decided to share our first dinner at the pizzeria just down from our hotel. For 7 euros we enjoyed a Margherita pizza in the shape of a heart. It was delicious! I expected the tomato sauce to be thick, yet it is surprisingly thin and light. Everyone finally arrived toward the end of our dinner, and after a short meeting, we fell into bed. The only bad news in the meeting was that breakfast was at 7:30 am. In the morning, we awoke to table-clothed tables in the hallway with place settings, orange juice, coffee, hot milk, tea, pastries, and large rolls that looked somewhat like bread bowls. Nothing like a carb-filled breakfast to jump-start your day…

By nine we had begun our first adventure-filled day. The city was full of amazing architecture, lots of bikes, mini-cars, restaurants, shops, cobblestone roads, gelato, and eerie ambulance sirens. Our first stop was the Musei Capitolini. The walk to and view from the museum was very beautiful, plus we were among the first to arrive. This museum, much like the ones to follow was filled with enormous statues, sculptures, and ancient Roman ruins. It was our first taste of the culture that many of us had studied and seen only in text books and with pictures smaller than our laptops.

It was both fascinating and unbelievable! Rome being such a large city makes it hard to believe that the ruins are actually legitimate rather than something you might see on the Vegas strip. We tossed a few coins in the famous Trevi Fountain. There were tons of people viewing the fountain and waiting their turn to toss a coin. We learned that there is over 3,000 euro coins thrown in to the fountain per day. This money is then donated to subsidize a supermarket for Rome's needy.

Over and over I kept wishing that, even if only for a brief moment, I could go back in time and see Roma in its prime. There was so much to see at the museum including the famous and giant sculpture of Constantine. I remember looking at the picture of his gigantic head on the cover of one of my art history text books, which made me enjoy being able to almost touch it even more! There were very few places in the museum that were unworthy of a photo; even the ceilings were highly intricate and carefully painted with chandeliers throughout. It was only day one, and I was already delightfully overwhelmed by the amount of art. Yes, I believe that sums it up: Delightfully overwhelmed.