The Sacramento of Italy

So imagine this:

Two girls with 7 peices of luggage that weigh more than they do, in a foriegn country where they don’t speak a lick the local language, and they had stayed up all night to watch the sunrise over the city of Florence with new friends they met the night before. Their next mission is to get from Florence to Volterra, their home for the next couple months.

As they board the train with their luggage (that easily weighs more than they do) they struggle to get everything aboard. One girl stands on the seat, while the other lifts bags above her head and they work together to stabilize the bags on the racks above the seats. It was quite the site to see, they are sure of it.

Once on the train, the girls ride through the countryside passing small towns, vineyards and the coast until they reached the city of Cecina. Cecine is so quiet they can hear the crickets chirping and it smells slightly of chlorine. They take a moment to question where the hell they are. With limited options, they head down the stairs switching off dragging their 100 lb bags down the stairs. To their disappointment the staircase has only lead them to another set of stairs heading up to another platform. One of the girls heads up the stairs to ask where their next train will take off from. Though there was a language barrier, the girl and the Italian train station worker converse separated by a glass wall. The man tells her she is actually taking a bus to their next location. They find a tiny elevator, load their luggage, and head out to the street to where the bus sits.

Baking in the heat and humidity of the sun they wait and observe small town around them. The train station has no signs to actually indicate it is a train station and there is a small cafe attached to the right side. People hang out in the parking lot of the station which seems bizarre to the girls. After waiting for twenty minutes the bus driver finally arrives. As they load their bags underneath the driver is rambling off Italian as if we can understand. Another man walks up to the girls and says ‘He is asking if you guys brought a horse with you.’ Embarrassed and laughing at themselves the girls quickly get on to the bus and head for the back. The driver comes to check their tickets and as he walks back to his seat he rambles off more Italian at them. The only word they recognize is ‘Texas’ and again they laugh because what else can they do.

While riding though city of Cecina they start to get more and more worried because in all honesty they thought the Italian countryside was going to look a lot different. At this point they have not slept in 28 hours and are in extreme desperation of food. As they drive through the city they call it *’The Sacramento of Italy*’ because it seems very fitting. It’s nothing against Sacramento, it’s just that they haven’t slept in while and they are very hangery.

Long story short they have to take another train that they didn’t even pay for and up dragging their luggage across the center of the city of Volterra along the cobblestone streets. And for the grand finale they they have too carry all their bags up 10 flights of stairs (seriously, they counted them) up to their room. But it’s okay, because in the end they have the prettiest view off all the rooms and they finally feel at home.

Yup, this was Jayde and I. In the end we made it and we couldn’t be happier.

love & miss you all lots,

gabi

P.S. sorry all I was supposed to post this two days ago but we went to Pisa for the day and ended up staying the night. . . but that is a story for another day 😉

Hello hello family and friends! Italy is better than ever and I would love to share my experiences with you all. By submitting your name and email you will get notified whenever I post :))

The Sacramento of Italy

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