Sunday, April 4, 2010

It's Half the Fun

If you were going to Italy, how would you get there?

It's not a trick question. You would probably just do the most convenient thing: Fly from wherever you are to Rome.

In 1988, when I was 18 years old, I got to go to Italy for the first time. In fact, it was my first time traveling outside of the U.S. But I didn't just fly from here to there. No, that would have been too easy. My trip went like this:

1. Fly from Atlanta to New York.
2. Change planes.
3. Fly from New York to Paris.
4. Change planes.
5. Fly from Paris to Nice.
6. Take a bus to the train station.
7. Buy a ticket from Nice to Milan.
8. Take train to Milan.

And I had to do all of this without speaking any French or Italian!

I have no idea why my mother and step-father arranged it this way. Were there no direct flights? Were they saving money? Was this the norm 22 years ago?

What I do know is, getting there was actually an adventure. I chatted about Paris with the Air France flight attendants, and one even offered to be a tour guide if I was staying in Paris (I wasn't). I met a woman from Las Vegas outside the airport in Nice. She didn't speak French either, and the two of us together tried to figure out which bus to take to the train station. In the train station, I found a nice French woman who showed me how to stamp my ticket. And I got to see the French Riviera and Monaco by train.

And I remember thinking that if I can do all of this by myself at age 18, speaking only English, I can do anything.

This time, though, I plan on learning some Italian before I get there. And even though getting there WAS half the fun, this time I think I'll just fly straight to Venice.

 Me and Pippo, Elba Island, 1988. I am rocking the unibrow.