Where do I even begin? I guess I’ll start by letting you know, first and foremost that I have arrived in Macerata safely after what some might say was a long and adventurous and draining trip. To say that I am exhausted would be the understatement of the century. I’m drained. Pooped. Ready to pass out at any moment. I mean, from Boston to Dublin was a 5.5 hour plane flight. On the bright side, at least I can say that I have now been to Dublin. From Dublin to Rome was a 2.5 hour flight, and then, get this, the drive from Rome, to the city that I am currently residing in is a 6 hour drive. And neither of those trips include the 3 hour drive from my hometown to Boston. If anything, I guess you could say that it might have made more sense to go to Africa or somewhere like that, but I am pretty sure I traveled in total at least 13 hours.
I’ll be honest. My adventure did start off pretty rocky, but I am happy to get out of the snowy weather in New England. My plane to Dublin was grounded for two hours due to inclement weather, and then they had to deice the plane prior to take off. At this point, I started panicking about whether or not I was going to make connecting flight. Lucky for me, over half the people on the flight to Dublin where also heading to Rome, so the flight from Dublin to Rome held off take off so that its remaining passengers could get on board.
Once landing, I waited about an hour before hopping the bus to Macerata. I tell you, it was one of the longest bus rides I have ever been on. I slept most of the way, or half slept at least, trying to keep one eye open and make sure that I would not miss my stop.
I’m really proud of myself though. Mark you, the entire time I was flying from Boston to Dublin, I was thinking in my head, over and over again, “what the fuck? what are you doing? why are you doing this? who are you doing this for? what do you hope to achieve? what the fuck? what the fuck?” One self-deprecating doubtful thought after another. And then I landed, and I was like, well, okay, here we are. Here you are, to say the least.
But I did it. And I am really proud of myself, and I did not get lost. I got on my very first solo transatlantic flight, and came here. I did it all for me really, and the journey, the joys of life.
I’m not homesick yet. I’m tired more than anything and I miss my boyfriend terribly. I’m the only black person here. I can’t wait to share with you more of my adventures.
Except for today. Today it was kind of rainy in Italy. But I will gladly take that over the bitter cold of New England any day.
Only 8 more weeks until I get to see my lovely boyfriend.