Due to the lack of watch or phone I asked the night watchman (on day 8) to knock on my door at 6:30 a.m. so I could make the 7:30 bus to the Figline station. I'm pretty sure he thought it an odd request but he agreed pleasantly enough.
On the night of day 8, I wondered if the night watchman would remember me - I should have had more faith in him because he came ah knocking at what I presumed to be 6:30. Ah! Lovely Man! After waking I gathered my things, headed to the pick up area, and realized that the bus was scheduled to leave at 8:30. Sweet. Instead of minding, I was happy that I had one more hour to sit at the terrace with a coffee and write.
At Florence I had a few hours to burn before my train to Rome - I went for lunch, walked about, bought soap from Lush, (def over rated) and asked strangers to take pictures of me. As you can tell the day had gone quite smoothly until the boarding of the train to Rome. I'm going to have to go back to my journal for this - as I will be doing from here on - My written memories are more exact.
Side note: Florence is beautiful - but there aren't a ton of young people there - lots of middle aged and plus.
"I'm trying to calm down - Fucking Italian men - This guy attempted to take my seat - It's obvious that it's mine, my things are strewn all over the table! And still he asks where - where! An old 60+ guy attempted to cut me in line! I didn't allow him! But I'm âppauled that he tried! Three or so youngish men sat on the station steps and placidly watched as I struggled to pull my bag up the stairs! What the Fuck!"
These three incidents happened one after the other. The first two caused my hair to raise a bit, but I was able to exhale deeply and forget about it, that is until the third. Now, the first two speak for the,selves, but the last one was insane. On route from home to JFK airport eight, count 'em eight men assisted with my bags - and if we want to get specific about it - I didn't lift my bag once on the way to the airport. Yet, when I drag my bag one step at a time up a flight of steps, a handful of Italians simply sat there and watched? It was border line perverse and I came close to yelling out - Pick up this bag right now! I said it in my head the way my mother would - I've observed that about myself a lot lately, when I'm pissed I speak like an angry Brazilian woman, but in English. It's funny if I think about it.
Anyway, getting back to Rome. I got there quick, the EuroStar will do that. Rome's central station was as busy as Penn - I took a cab to the hotel at which the tour group had been herded to. When I got there I had this sense of....I did it!!! But that feeling didn't last very long since Claudia said, "Technically you're not supposed to eat because your trip is over- but there's plenty here so go for it." It took me a few moments to grasp that whole concept. In one sense I was free, on the other I had just arrived and had no idea where I was going to stay. Claudia had also mentioned that I could ask someone on the tour if I could crash in their room, rather then paying the night. So yes I asked the lovely Jenna if I could room with her and her mate - she said yes -
The night continued with lots of goodbyes - I finally learned tall guy with hat's name and guy with messy hair's name - It was a little sad - Maybe I'll share about it tomorrow - I'm getting off before this comp randomly shuts off again,- Don't ask. (Sorry Roeland haha)