Italy, you're so good to me!

So, I (was when I started writing this, still innocent and scabies free) currently in Barcelona where I have been reunited with my parents and sister which has been tres exciting! But, I'm going to blog about Italy. Because I'm a little behind. First though, it has come to my attention that I need to do a little person identifying. It seems that some of you are under the impression that Little Texas is one person. Oh contraire. Little Texas is three people. They are three girls from the University of Texas who I find ever so lovely if a bit crazy. I guess for the purpose of this story I should name them. I'll call them Pity Party, Make Out Queen, and Happy Girl.

That being said, Little Texas and I went to Italy last weekend! All four of us, not two. And this is how it went.

After many an hour spent with my dear friend Mohamed at the train station, we managed to get ourselves on an overnight train from Paris to Milan last Thursday. Our train left at 7 pm. Given Little Texas's habit of running late, I told them to meet me at the train station at 6:00. At 6:30 they showed up. And decided to go to the grocery store. At 6:50, I was standing in front of the train with just one of them when the other two came running up with wine bottles in hand. I was feeling sick and a little sad about the idea of staying up drinking on a train all night. Lucky for me, that blasted Mohamed had put me in a separate car then they were in. So, I got to sleep peacefully on the train.

At 5 am we got to Milan and with my very limited Italian I managed to get us on a train to Genoa, where it turns out Christopher Columbus lived (only after getting a coffee gelato in the Milan train station). Little Texas was either drunk or hung over or both and unentertained by the expedition I led them around in Genoa seeing all the sights. So I pulled us over for some pizza and learned that having a vocabulary of 27 words in Italian makes one fluent and a star! Where as having a vocabulary of a few hundred words in French makes one useless. What a pleasant change! I went to pay the bill in the restaurant and when asking for change kept saying 5 instead of 15 for some reason unknown to me. "Quindici," the cashier said. "Cinque," I said. "Quindici," She said. "Cinque," I said. "Quindici," the rest of the people chimed in. "Quindici!" I repeated and was congratulated with a round of Bravos. It was quite exciting.

Then we managed to get onto a train to Cinque Terre, which is this amazing place where there are five cities and they are all separated by mountains and sea. We staying in a campground right outside it (who would survive in the wilderness now, Monica?). The people at the campsite were really lovely, a family business we would soon learn. The first night we went into the closest town to go to a wine bar. In God's little joke on me, it was pouring rain and freezing. On the Mediterranean. In April. When it's supposed to be an average of 70. In said wine bar, we met a lovely character name Antonio who seemed to fit the description of charming Italian who sleeps with every tourist he meets and can woo with his Italian charm. He tried to get us to go out but having spent the night on the train and then being in the pouring rain, I put my foot down and made LT (Little Texas) go back to the campground with me.

Then we got back to the train station and called the campsite to come pick us up in their shuttle. But no one answered. And we sat there feeling sad. Until three Italian guys happened upon us. One, named Fabio yet with no resemblance to an Italian model, had just been in the States and wanted to practice his English. Finally he asked us why we were sitting alone in a train station at midnight. We told him the campsite was not answering the phone and we didn't want to walk the three miles in the pouring rain. Lo and behold, dear Fabio turned out to be in the old campsite family and offered to drive us home. Feeling uninterested in taking a ride from strangers but even more uninterested in walking home in the pouring rain (and feeling frankly like I could take him if he tried to kidnap us), we agreed and dear Fabio took us home.

Anyhow, then it was Saturday morning and I used my firm voice with the campsite for not answering the phone. They said the line had gone out in the rain and they had come to try to find us but we were already gone. When I told them a character named Fabio took us home they all clapped in the little office "Ah, Fabio!" They exclaimed, "He save-a the day!"

And then in a grant of mercy it was warm and sunny and beautiful and we hiked between two of the towns and ate gelato and sat on a cliff overlooking all the beauty (it honestly felt like we hadn't seen that much sun in years only though it had only been a couple months). Then we went back to the campground where LT ganged up on me and tricked me into going out. Still having a cold and not really wanting to I made Happy Girl promise to take the last train (a midnight one) with me or take a cab. Having gotten a promise we ventured into town again to the wine bar of Antonio. Two members of Little Texas, Pity Party and Make Out Queen, were competing for the role of the lucky one who got to sleep with Antonio while Happy Girl and I peacefully drank our wine, knowing the drama we were about to encounter. Antonio and his friend, also named Fabio but not the same one, invited us out to the bar. At this time I said it was my bedtime and made moves to take the train only to learn it was later than I thought and I had missed the train. I asked Antonio about getting a cab. His English was, if possible, worse than my Italian, but we soon realized that in fact, there were no cabs in this city and I was trapped until the next train at 5 am. We were all trapped. So we figured, why not get drunk.

So we went to a bar with a bunch of Italians where Happy Girl and I entertained ourselves butchering the Italian language to the great happiness of the Italians, who, I think might have a bit of an inferiority complex with regards to French and were happy to spend the night bashing the French with us.

Then things turned sad. Make Out Queen and Dear Antonio ventured down to the beach and the rest of us followed. They ran off to a rock to make out while the rest of us sat there drinking out beers. Pity Party immediately got really sad and proceeded to spend the evening asking us if she was pretty, which, we told her, she was. Happy Girl and I were entertained by Antonio's friend, who told us in Italian that Antonio sleeps with an American a week. Pity Party, in an attempt to gain attention, ran into the ocean.

I was given the task of retrieving Make Out Queen and Happy Girl went off to fetch Pity Party. We reconvened with Antonio and decided the best plan of attack, given the coldness ensued by those who run into the ocean, would be to sit in his car for an hour until the train came. Which we did. And then we took the train. And then we walked 3 miles from the train back to the campsite. And I was sad, but entertained. And then we slept and finally made it back to Cinque Terre for some hiking and gelato eating. All was lovely and the next day LT and I parted ways, them for Florence, and me for Paris.

We took a lot of fabulous pictures, but my camera broke so I have to wait for LT to put theirs up!