travel journal :: sorrento, italy

The next couple days went by like a dream. Traveling through the south of Italy is something you're not supposed to experience until your honeymoon. Honestly, sometimes I fear that not even my honeymoon will compare to how incredible the experience was.

From Rome, we took trenitalia to Naples, where we exited the train station and eagerly looked for pizza. But, were terrified by how dirty and sketchy the neighborhood we were in seemed, and re-entered the train station quite quickly. Train from Rome to Naples, $16.49, Train from Naples to Sorrento $5.07. Pasta in the train car that served food and alcohol $6.71. Woo, killin' it on the budget!

We arrived at Porto Salvo in the dark and the train station we were at seemed closed. There was a small window that looked as if a worker would either sell you some movie tickets or perhaps provide you with a map, neither of which we're going to happen tonight, as he was safely at home in bed. We had a minor panic as the station we got dropped of at was a few miles from where we were staying. But decided the best thing to do, was to start walking. So, we walked towards the noise until we found a bustling little street, which happened to be the center of downtown. The city of Sorrento is quite magical, the small streets are covered with street vendors selling all your favorite Italian delights, restaurants with open patios welcoming you in for 'just one drink', and gelato on literally every corner. Although we were tired, and carrying our backpacks, we walked around for a bit and got acquainted with our new home. In a small alley, behind the main road, we found a pizza place and each ordered a whole pie for dinner.We sat down on some benches and just watched as people walked back and forth, coming and going from their evening plans. It was at this moment that I decided, this is the place I'm going to retire. I could have that little shop, with a nice big pizza oven, and come out here every night and watch the tourists. My dad would love this.

I'm not quite sure how we found our way home. I think after walking past cell phone shops enough times, we connected to some free wifi and screen-shotted the map. Little did we know at the time, we'd be doing this walk quite a few times over the next few days. We arrived at Porto Salvo (Purple Bed & Breakfast) in the dark and we're escorted to our room. This was the first hostel we stayed in that was literally...just a room. "The bathroom is in the hallway; we all share", the gentleman told us, as if that was a totally normal thing. Our room had a sink and a large closet, and enough room between the bed and the wall for just our two pairs of shoes. We thanked him and went to bed, knowing we had a big day ahead.
When we woke up in the morning we realized just how incredible our hostel choice was. The small window in the corner of our room actually overlooked their large backyard, an apple orchard. Dogs and kids ran around screaming as two men stood on ladders trying to bring down the fruit, but still it was beautiful. Just ahead of us was what looked like a large acacia tree, perfectly positioned so the sunrise shone through it's branches, and a large cruise ship sat in the harbor.

We used Sorrento as a home base and explored much of the southern coast over the next few days.

Day 2, we took the intercity train to Pompeii, where we listened to a Rick Steves podcast as we walked the streets of the forgotten city, and relived the horror these people faced as Mount Vesuvius engulfed their lives on what seemed like just another day. After a few hours of touring the grounds, we grabbed lunch just outside the city, on a beautiful patio, with some delicious fresh-squeezed orange juice and grilled panini's. One month in and we might be feeling a little too comfortable with each other at this point. Why are you licking my face?!

When we got back to Sorrento, I went for a solo walk down the cliffs and explored what Sorrento really had to offer, at sunset nonetheless. I met some fellow solo walkers and we smiled as we passed each other, knowing that we were both in awe of the beauty that was set forth before us. 
I checked a few menus of nearby restaurants and went back to the hostel to request Brandon's assistance in choosing one. Most nights we ate street food or cooked for ourselves to save money, so in each city we allowed ourselves one nice meal. We had no idea what we were in for this time around. The restaurant we chose posted their menu up on the street and after walking down a long driveway, and into what seemed like a YMCA, we took an elevator with the maitre d' and the cutest little girl I've ever seen, down...and further down. As the doors opened and we entered the restaurant, we realized we we're actually below the cliffs I had just walked through above, on a large patio, overlooking the port. We sat down and looked over the menu and decided, hey, we work hard, and sometimes we deserve to be spoiled. Save and splurge, right? That's why we're here. So we went big. We ordered a bottle of white wine, which they brought table side in one of those fancy ice buckets. We started with some ricotta stuffed squash blossoms, and ate all the free bread our hearts desired as we waited on our swordfish.

It took a little longer than expected but we were enjoying our time so we just kept drinking and eating the free bread. The moment the man started walking out with a cart and stared me straight in the eye, was the first moment the thought crossed my mind that the price we had seen in the menu, was maybe not the real price of the dish. Here we were, thinking we were being economical by sharing, when really we had just seen the cost (per pound).

Oh boy!

Nothing we can do about it now, except watch in fascination as this gorgeous Italian man, prepared our dinner for us, table side. Until this point, I held strong to my denial that traveling through Europe with my best friend would not intensify the feelings I had so successfully suppressed. But alas, here I was, at what was sure to be the most romantic date I've ever been on, with the only person in the world that loves food as much as me. Good work, Stephanie.

As we strolled home, we stopped for a bottle of wine, sat down on a bench over looking the cliffside, and just talked; you know, about space and stuff.

Day 3: We spent the morning running errands, walked back downtown and found a place to do laundry. Bought some shampoo and conditioner and macaroni au four, just like Nonna makes it. Thinking we were going to Capri today, we packed our day packs and stood at the bus station, for hours. We must have watched 30 buses pass us, before someone told us, "they don't always come." Fair enough, Capri tomorrow. So, we bought a few bottles of wine, and spent the day in bed, watching Seinfeld, and dancing to taylor swift. Can't all our days be just like this?

Day 4: The island of Capri, an expensive ferry and some seriously sketchy bus rides but views worth every dime. Upon arriving at the port, we received a map of the island and tried to decide where we should start, and how much we could see in a single day. Staying on the island was so expensive so we knew we had to see as much as we could before the last ferry departed to take us home to Sorrento. As I tried to navigate, Brandon played paparazzi with the asian couple, that seemed to be having their own private photo shoot. We walked around the beaches on the shore before walking up small streets and millions of stairs to the centro, or center of town.

We had lunch in town and wandered through the shops before taking a bus, that drove way too fast on very small winding roads, to the top of the island, Anacapri. I'm still unclear how, but I convinced Brandon it was a good idea to take a seemingly unsafe chairlift to the top of the island. This, from the man that was scared of walking across a bridge made entirely of stone. And he was about to get scooped up by a 100 year old, rickety chair lift. Here goes. We stood in line, and I did not say one word, knowing that now was not a time for jokes, if I wanted him to go through with this. The weather was a bit overcast and we we're two white folks in a sea of maybe 200 asians traveling together with selfie sticks, but what an incredible experience it was. We took photos of each other back and forth from our chair lifts, and a million photos of the ground, as we got higher and higher into the clouds. Once we reached the top, we had views of the entire island on every side. B! Take my pictuuuure! The wind struggle was so real.

Spoiler Alert: we made it, and we didn't die. We took the bus and ferry back to Sorrento and packed up as we got ready for a quick stop on the Amalfi coast.

Day 5: Oh man, we're going to have to take a bus today. Not just any bus, an overcrowded, un air-conditioned bus, way too close to the edge of the cliff-sides between Sorrento and Amalfi bus. As we sat in the staircase, because there were no open seats, clutching our backpacks and each other for dear life, I started to feel sick. I remember Brandon being upset that I hadn't warned him of my motion sickness before our trip. As if he was somehow suffering with me. We made it through Positano and over to Amalfi, where we walked around for a bit before grabbing some lunch and sitting down, on the steps of the church in the center of town and eating our first meal of the day.

Brandon booked this one, so he took the reigns, we met our host Enrico at his men's clothing store, where he gave us the keys to the apartment and pointed in the general direction we were supposed to go, while spouting off vague directions, in the likes of, "go up the stairs until there are no more stairs, right, then left, past the big table and when you see the big door, you push, past the big table again, and on the left you find the stairs to your place, inside." Sure thing Enrico, we'll be right back. We're doing to pretend we understood anything you just said and we'll be back in about 5 minutes so you can come and show us to our door. Thanks!

We spent one full day in Amalfi, on the beach, and swimming. We shared two bottles of wine and lunch, which were all hard to come by, since everything closed during siesta. Siesta? These are our prime drinking hours! We don't own a cork screw, shoot. As Brandon went back up into town to try and buy us a cork screw and another bottle of wine, I took a little nap on the sand. I was rudely awakened by the shadow of someone standing over me. I was a bit startled but opened my eyes and asked, "yes, can I help you?" This boy, who could not have been over 20, sat down next to me and made himself at home over the next 20 minutes as he inquired about my life. "Do you have a boyfriend? Is he here with you? Do you have a boyfriend in the states? Do you want a boyfriend in Italy?" He then told me about how he just worked at the hotel to make some extra pocket money, but he had 3 homes in the south of Italy, and if I were to be his girlfriend he would let me live in all of them. Sweet deal! But really, can you leave so that I can get back to my nap? What could Brandon be doing that is taking this long? He probably forgot about the wine, and found some girl to flirt with that we'll never see again. This would be a wonderful time to show up, and also pretend to be madly in love with me. Queue friend. Nothing. The Italian boy eventually left, and Brandon returned, with two bottles of wine and a cork screw. Back on track. We finished the day with a drunken stumble up through the streets of Amalfi, into a mom and pop shop, where we bought some pasta and sauce, and returned to our little apartment to make our dinner. Brandon passed out around 7pm and in his sleep, asked me 'if I thought Tupac had ever been to Italy, because if he had, he probably would have rapped about it, and he doesn't rap about Italy in any of his songs.'

travel journal :: rome, italy

I'm about to take a large man who fears heights and small spaces on a 20 person plane from Budapest to Rome. Wish us luck! It's Thursday night and it's the first time either of us have traveled via one of these small inter-European airlines. They're very tricky. At first you think you're getting some kind of amazing deal, flying across multiple countries for 11 Euros, but wait, you haven't paid for your bag, or your seat, or the space above your head or below your feet. I'm exaggerating but that is pretty much how it works. By the time you tack on all the taxes and fees associated with your flight, those 11 Euros have multiplied into maybe 60-70 Euros. Still, not a bad deal, but an important travel lesson to learn. Budapest to Rome was our first stint that wasn't attainable by train. Bring on RyanAir Flight FR9417.
I had been to Rome once before, but not in many years and was eager to experience it as an adult, and not an uninterested adolescent being forced on amazing adventures with her family. This one would be quick though. We had to be in Sorrento by Saturday which only really gave us a day and a half to explore a city with an immense amount of history and culture.
Challenge accepted.

When we landed in Rome, there were about 80 college students sitting on the floor of a very small room in the airport, seemingly waiting for whatever we were waiting for; the bus. The next one won't come for an hour so I get in line behind the other 10 people who are also waiting for the one employee to serve them some caffeine. When our bus arrives at the train station it's pretty run down, it's late at night and there are a lot of homeless people and beggers. As someone who started traveling back to Egypt alone at a very young age, I like to think that my intuition for dangerous situations is pretty spot on. So, this is the moment where my ears perk up, I hold on to my passport and wallet a little tighter and I'm very eager to figure out how to get home. We follow the crowd into the parking lot and are standing between a line of taxis and a bus depot. We walk around the train station quickly looking for a schedule, map or something to help guide us to our home for the night. At this point we've been traveling for most of the day, we're tired and we're hungry.

Brandon wants to get food, I want to get home, but we walk across the street and get some Shawarma for dinner. It's funny, only because through the course of this trip - whenever we've had a really hard time finding a place to eat, I've insisted we keep looking and somehow a Shawarma place has appeared out of the heavens like White Castle at the end of Harold and Kumar. Needless to say, I was not amused but agreed, because I wanted to get home. We get food relatively quickly and as we're walking across the street, we see a bus leaving the depot. We walk to it's sign to see when the next one will arrive and realize it's the last bus of the night...and we're stranded. Queue the first travel fight. My sister will attest to this, because we've traveled together before and because she's known me my whole life - if I am yelling at you at the top of my lungs and saying hurtful things, it's just an argument and I don't mean it, and in a few moments it will be over and the issue will be resolved. When you really need to worry, is when I've gone completely silent, not interested in working it out. This was, the quietest cab ride home, in the history of all cab rides.

Tomorrow is a new day.

Our stay in Rome was also pretty unique. We found a room in an apartment through airbnb, where a woman names Mirta hosted guests coming and going. She provided us with towels and hot water and tea, as most airbnb hosts did. But more importantly, she took the time to create a map/itinerary for her guests. On this small, fold-able paper was a city map, stating where the top 10 most visited attractions we're located, in comparison to us. And the schedules of the buses that would take us to each. Backpacking GOLD here people. We were very grateful.

We woke up very early, and went across the street to the Tabac store to buy some bus passes and we were off on our quickest adventure yet. First stop: Foro Romano. One of the favorite parts of this Euro trip was coming across places I had been with my family as a child. There is this unexplainable feeling, deep in your gut, triggered by familiarity in your surroundings that tells you you're getting close to a memory. Not as popular as the Colosseum (but located nearby), some say the Roman Forum is more interesting, and FREE! The Roman Forum is comprised of much of Ancient Rome's most important structures. The interesting part about Rome, much like Athens, is that the ruins are in the center of town. They have been preserved in small sections, and through the years, as industrialization has happened, the city has been build up around them.

After a quick mozzarella and tomato panini, we entered the Colosseum. We opted out of the tour because we were on our own schedule, but often ran into groups standing near by and listening in to catch some historical explanation of what we were witnessing. The massive stone amphitheater was commissioned around A.D. 70-72 by Emperor Vespasian as a gift to the Roman people. When it opened, officially known as a the Flavian Amphitheater, it hosted 100 days of games, including gladiatorial combats and animal fights. After four centuries of active use, the arena fell to neglect, and up until the 18th century it was used as a source of building materials. We walked up an down the maze of entries and exits, exploring each crevasse, and trying to make our way to higher ground to get some sweet touristy pictures for our instagrams. We used Brandon's height as a measure to show how large or small the doorways were. Small love locks and graffiti covering the walls throughout the ground floor. And as we both explored, we'd lose each other and end up running into a familiar face on the other side of a wall. After what seemed like hours of exploring, and hundreds of photos, we made a quick stop in the gift shop, posed with my dads favorite comic 'Asterix', bought out moms some post cards, and followed the crowd up a cobble stone hill. We didn't realize at the time but the Roma Pass we had purchased to enter the Colosseum also granted us access to Palatine Hill, one of seven hills of Rome, and one of the most ancient parts of the cities. It stands 40 meters above the Roman Forum, looking down upon it on one side and Circus Maximus on the other. The Palatine Hill is littered with ruins from ancient palaces and other buildings; among them the Palace of Domitian, House of Augustus, the Temple of Apollo and the Temple of Cybele. At the north-west end of the Palatine Hill are the ruins of the palace of Tiberius, one of the first botanical gardens in Europe. The garden was connected to the Roman Forum via several flights of stairs.
I wish I had a fit bit back then because we must have walked over 10 miles that day. After the Colosseum, we wanted to walk to the Pantheon. According to Google it's a 22 minute walk, about 1.8 km via dei Fori Imperiali. It even looks like a pretty straight line on the map, but I guess that is if you have internet, a smart phone, and straight streets, all of which we were lacking. So, after a very squiggly, round about, way of walking in the completely wrong direction, and a pit stop for the piatto del giorno, and some white wine at Pasta e Pizza, we stumbled into Piazza Navona. Not at all the landmark we were looking for, or thought we were walking towards, but Hey! it was gorgeous. The most important part of traveling is being nimble and adaptive to change. So, we adapted, we walked through the square, admired the fountains, took photos under the piazza signs and even chased a pigeon or two, all while dodging the men aggressively selling selfie sticks and fake Gucci bags. Piazza Navona is built on the site of the Stadium of Domitian, built in the 1st century AD, it houses the Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi (fountain of the four rivers) with an Egyptian obelisk in the center. Naturally, I felt right at home.
Knowing that our map was pretty useless at this point, we attempted to follow the signage on the buildings and the people in the street. And we finally found the Pantheon. Being lost, on a hot day, with a pretty bad cold makes for high temperament and exaggerated emotions. Brandon and I had had quite enough of each other at this point, we're tired of being lost, and we're too hot to have a rash conversation. When we reached the Pantheon, we went our separate ways and explored the area on our own.

Initially, I wanted to take this trip alone. 72 days of solo travel, planning and exploring and learning, on my own. I thought it would teach me something about myself that I didn't already know, challenge me in some way, help me to grow and be more self-aware. What I didn't account for, was that traveling with another human being, even your best friend in the entire world, is equally, if not more challenging. You're not just responsible for yourself, you're responsible for another person. The only person in fact, in the entire country, that knows your whereabouts, what your face looks like, and is conscious of your feelings at the time. That is a lot of pressure, and a lot to ask of someone. More often than not, I think I took this for granted. On this day especially, where I actually had to separate myself from my travel partner, I became very aware of how enjoyable it was to have him around. I really loved having someone to share all of these new experiences with, someone to reminisce about the memories with later.
As a sat in the pews of the Pantheon, I closed my eyes and I prayed. I'm definitely not a very religious person, but as a child I traveled a lot with my grandma, one of the most intelligent people that I know, and she taught me that every time you entered a new church, you should bow down onto one knee, touch your forehead and both shoulders in the name of 'le père le fils et le saint d'esprit', and that with your prayer you're allowed one wish. If my grandma said it, it must be true. So I sat, and I prayed, and I used my one wish - please let me find my travel partner, and find my way home.
We did find each other, and although most of our afternoon would be spent still in the heat, lost, wandering around - the moments I will remember about this day are definitely the resolutions over the arguments. I really wanted to see the Fontana di Trevi. I remembered it from my trip back in 2007 and it's grand allure, and I was eager to show Brandon one of my favorite parts of Rome. We were so close to it, we walked and walked and walked, went back and forth through small streets, stumbled upon a marketplace where I bought myself a nice ring, and a snack. And still, we couldn't find it. We walked for what seemed like hours, miles, and around monuments I was sure were not at all important or what we were looking for. Finally we walked through a small alley, stopped to make up over a cup of Gelato (the man knows the way to my heart is through my stomach) and down a large stair case, there it was. La Fontana di Trevi! or Trevi Fountain was designed by Italian architect Nicola Salvi, its the largest Baroque fountain in the city and one of the most famous fountains in the world. Unfortunately, on this particular day, it was under construction, completed draped off and unattainable by the public. The city had built a bridge you could traverse to see a small portion of it that had not yet been covered, and there were thousands of people in line to see that small square. Welp, ya win some you lose some. On to the next.
We had a wonderful Italian dinner together. Prosciutto pizza, a calzone, beer, limoncello and a small patio overlooking the moon. Our waiter made a nice joke about us needing a table for 3 because Brandon was going to eat enough for two, and we countered asking if he was planning to join us. We passed by a few bars, thought about partying, but since I was still pretty sick, we headed home to rest up for our day at the Vatican.

Our train to Naples wasn't until 4:30pm so we had one more morning to explore Rome. Feeling like we had the bus system down to a science, we hit the tabac store, bought a pack of tickets to last us the rest of the day and headed towards the Vatican feeling like we could take on the world. Two buses later, we were stranded on a tall hill, with gorgeous views of the city, but at what seemed the be the end of the line and the only buses that were coming past us, we're headed in the direction we came from. Shucks. Don't panic, don't panic. Take some photos from this epic lookout, and start walking. We finally got on the right bus and we're dropped off just outside the Vatican city walls. Ah, something familiar. I remembered from my previous trip that all the fountains in the street had clean water coming from within the Vatican so we drank, cleaned our hands and walked through quiet streets up into the Vatican City. Absolute chaos.

Brandon, hold my hand, I'm serious. Get a sandwich, we have to get inside. Cross the street, don't get hit. Watch out for that bus! Vatican City, officially the Vatican City State is a walled in enclave within the city of Rome. With an area of approximately 110 acres, and a population of 842, it is the smallest internationally recognized independent state in the world by both area and population.
I entered Saint Peter's Square feeling pretty confident, since I had been before and even knew a bit of the history behind it. I showed Brandon the Obelisk in the center of the square and even made him stand on the dials
on the ground where all of the 4 rows of columns around the square magically form into one line. Ha! So cool. I know things. My confidence quickly dwindled after we saw the line to get in, and once we reached the front of it, the security guard told me I wouldn't be able to enter because I was wearing shorts.
Really Stephanie? Shorts, on the day you're entering the Vatican. This isn't your first Rodeo, it's not your first time traveling, it's not even your first time in this particular tourist attraction. The ultimate rookie move. As I bowed my head in defeat, and forcefully convinced Brandon that he should still go in, because it's an incredible thing to see and because I've been it before, I turned around and started walking back to the Obelisk where we planned to meet a couple hours later. As I was about half way there, a gentleman approached me and just as I prepared to shoo him away, he offered me a silk scarf for 5 Euros. Did I need a silk scarf for 5 Euros? Absolutely not, but could I use this scarf as a makeshift maxi skirt and swindle my way back into the Basilica? Now, we're talking.

After a few rounds of statues and some epic stained glass in Saint Peter's Basilica, I spotted the only 6'5 Jamaican in the place, and scurried up behind him in an effort to scare the crap out of him as he wondered who in Rome could be poking his butt. It's just me, B. Don't worry. We toured the Basilica together, fascinated by all the painted ceilings and lifelike statues. Designed by Donato Bramante, Michaelangelo, Carlo Maderno, and Gian Lorenzo Bernini, St. Peter's is the most renowned work of Renaissance architecture, and remains one of the two largest churches in the world. Now, I will admit, reluctantly, that for the majority of the time we were in Saint Peter's Basilica, we we're wondering if we were in the Sistine Chapel. Dang tourists.
As we exited the Basilica, we decided to see what the other extremely long lines were leading to, and one in particular caught my eye, as I remembered standing in it last time I was there but turning back after 3 hours of not moving. We determined it was the line for the St. Peters Dome, designed by Michaelangelo. Please, oh please Brandon. Can we? We checked our timing and decided to try and make it, little did we know what we were in for. We climbed what seemed like a million stairs, as my "skirt" flailed behind me, we lapped tourist after tourist as we we're in a rush, and they were slow. Brandon crouched through doorways that were too small, stairways that were too tight, and as we got higher, it got hotter. Finally, we entered the Dome, and it was 100% worth it. The frescos on the wall were unlike anything I've ever seen. We could see down into the portion of the basilica that we had explored earlier and it all became a little more real. It was gorgeous. We exited onto the roof and realized there was more to be seen. You could climb around the top of the dome to a much smaller dome, and see views of all of Vatican City, hell, all of rome. Although I knew he was scared, of the height and of the small spaces and I was too at this point, Brandon agreed to the adventure and we continued onward and upward. We got stuck behind crowds of people all headed to the same small place, through the same small stairwells, and we all suffered, together. Don't panic, don't panic. It's almost over. It wasn't, but we didn't know that, sometimes ignorance really is bliss. We finally made it to the top, took a huge deep breath of air, and took some epic photos of the views in front of us and all was right in the world.
Rome, conquered.

travel journal :: venice, italy

Hurry! The island is sinking, and if you wait any longer it won't even be there for you to go explore. At least that's what I told myself. The rumors are true, Venice is sinking, but the city is still very much alive, dealing with its issues, just like every other city in the world. Yes, it's expensive and was quite out of the way on our journey but I had to see it, I just had to! 

We stayed in an apartment outside of Venice, Via Col Moschin in Mestre, just across the bridge from the city center and near the train station. The cost difference between being on the island and just outside was huge, and since we were only there for two days we took the bus in the morning and evening and spent our days touring the island. 

I like to think I have a wonderful sense of direction. I get my 'Shami senses' from my dad and can almost always find my way back somewhere after just the first time of being there. I can find my way home simply by following my nose, and I rarely, very rarely get lost. All of that logic went to the wind in Venice. Venusian, as the Italians call it, is made up of 118 small islands separated by canals and linked by bridges. It is located in the marshy Venetian Lagoon which stretches between the Po and Piave Rivers. The commune is divided into 6 boroughs and the Sestieri or historic city is made up of 6 small cities: Cannaregio, San Polo, Dorsoduro, Santa Croce, San Marco, and Castello. Brandon and I agreed to explore the islands on our own for a bit of private time, and after buying him a 3-euro map, I joined a walking tour and we agreed to meet up at the well we started at around 3 pm. Every walking tour we had taken up until this point had been about 2 hours and roamed the city in a circular fashion before returning to the starting point. I should have known this wouldn't be the case in the twisted city of Venice. 

We toured the city, first stopping at the famous Ponte do Rialto, overlooking the Grand Canal, and finishing at Saint Mark’s Basilica in Piazza San Marco. Our guide was knowledgeable and adorable and taught us not only the history of the famed city but also a bit about its current political standing. All in all, a wonderful tour. As we stood at the foot of the Basilica, watching the tourists feeding the pigeons and talking photos covered shoulder to shoulder in birds, I asked someone for the time. 

"Quarter to three," they said, as my face flushed red and I realized I was 45 minutes late in meeting the only other person I know on this continent. "Excuse me!" I frantically called the guide. "Are we almost back at the starting point? I have to meet my friend." She smiled as she told me this tour did not end at the starting point, and we still had 30 minutes more left in the tour. I asked for directions, and after some very confusing points and explanations, I thanked her, gave her my tip, and started running. For anyone that knows me, there are few things I hate more than running. In college, my boyfriend thought my running style was so hysterical, he would run ahead of me on the track so he could turn around, run backward, and watch me as my arms flail in no particular sync with my legs and faster than my actual speed. Still, what I hate more than running, is when people are late. It seems like a blatant disrespect for the other person’s time, and I didn't want to be the one wasting anyone's time. So, I ran. Through the small crowded corridors packed with people, into every possible dead end, or street that just ended in a canal. I ran past ice cream stores and Ferrari shops. I followed the river as best I could, and looked for any opportunity to cross a bridge to the other side. When I thought I had finally found my way over, I ran straight into a restaurant and nearly ended up in the water. I backtracked a bit, finally found my way, and just as I was about to give up, I emerged in a familiar quarter, and there he was, just where I left him. After a weekend of useless arguments and a solo day to cleanse the feelers, I had never been so happy to see a familiar face. 

"Sorry I'm late" I said as a haulted my jog and huffed out a sigh of relief, "Did you know not all the walking tours end where they start." 

We stopped at a grocery mart on the way home, grabbed some juice box wine for the train, and ended our Venice adventure on a positive note.