Before I begin today's post I must wish my one and only brother a very happy 20th birthday! He has grown into a confident young man and I am so blessed to call him my brother. His hilarious sense of humor is able to diffuse even the most uncomfortable of situations, and for that (as his often awkward older sister) I am very thankful. Though our personalities are miles apart we share a bond that could never be broken. So, today on your first birthday out of the teens I wish only the best for you. Someday you will make some special lady a very blessed partner...and I'm sure I will begrudge that any woman could hold a position more important than my own. But, until that day I will continue to teach you how to treat a lady, so that when that day does come she will know just how blessed she is to have you. Sam, you are a great young man, call dad and thank him. I love you more than words could express. ...Oh, and next year we go out, we go out hard!
The following is a re-count of both the major travel days I had during my trip to Morocco. I will be following up this post with another post fully dedicated to the trip in the next few days, but every trip starts with its on adventure the 'getting there' portion. And, let's just say this trip had quite the 'adventure' in store for me.
The first day of the trip I traveled to Milan, Italy where I stayed for about 36 hours waiting for my onward flight to Marrakech, Morocco. I enjoyed this little break. I love Italy and the architecture and food are certainly more than enough to keep me enchanted for years.
The morning started early at my site in rural Moldova. After a quick shower and a double-check on my bag I headed out to an early morning bus taking me into Chisinau. I stopped in at the office desperate for an ipod charger. To no avail, I headed out to the airport. Sitting and waiting for a plane is much less enjoyable without music. Luckily, I saw two baseball caps walk into the terminal. BINGO. I picked up my bags and quickly made my way up to them without introduction I asked 'So, do either of you have an ipod charger?'. They did, I was in luck. They asked how I knew they were American... Well, when you walk in wearing polo tee-shirts tucked into jeans with your blackberry holstered at your side it is kind of a dead giveaway. Oh, and the baseball caps, nikes and backpacks were just the icing on your very clearly American cake. Sorry. We chatted for the next half hour before it was time to board. The guy asked if I had enough charge, I told him 'yes, until I run into the next American'.
The flight was uneventful. My layover in Rome was also boring, but at least I had music! The second flight was also uneventful (just what one wants in air travel). The contrast between the people on the first and second flight was comical. The first flight was full of typical Moldovans, parents and older people heading off to work in Italy. The second flight was full of business people in sleek business suits and leather briefcases. The women of Milan have this amazing sense of style. I can only aspire to one day look as put together as they do. It is this genetically engrained effortless style that I as a peace corps volunteer do not have.
After this second flight I high-tailed it to the train. Getting to the ticket office two minutes before the train I wanted departed. I ran to the platform and jumped on the train just as the doors shut. Thirty minutes later I was dropped at Cardona station in downtown Milan. I printed walking directions to my hostel before I had left Moldova so I pulled them out of my bag and began the walk. The route was twisty but the roads were well marked and I found the hostel without any problem. Ostello Bello, was a fun and lively hostel. I thoroughly enjoyed my stay. The complimentary welcome drink and free dinner buffet were just the cherry on top. After finishing my drink and enjoying my new found friends I decided it was time to turn in, it was a long day. It felt so good to be back on the road, just me and my backpack. And, who doesn't love a place where the streets smell like pizza and the windows are all treated with flowers and colorful shutters?
The following day the entire public transport system went on strike. This threw a monkey wrench in my plans to get back to the airport, but what's travel without a little bit of annoyance. I was able to resolve the problem and found a private bus system that shuttled to the airport. Problem resolved, like a pro.
The trip was absolutely amazing. My wonderful boyfriend and I had a great week exploring all the beauty that Morocco has to offer. I will share more from our trip later, but now I will share the hellish story of my long journey home to Moldova from Morocco after the trip.
This was easily the worst travel day I have had to date. After a crumby nights sleep in a nine person dorm I headed to the airport at 5am. The ticket and security process were a breeze. I waited in the holding area occasionally checking for the gate announcement. Five minutes before we were supposed to depart a announcement came over the intercom informing us our flight was delayed and that we would get an update in thirty minutes. All the flights began to get delayed. We were at a stand still. Sitting and staring at a departures board that deson't chang but keeps adding flights is by far worse than waiting for a pot of water to boil. I was sitting among other tourists mostly from Europe. Although the two groups of Americans I spotted found a way to complain louder and longer than anyone else. Finally, five hours later we were able to board and I knew I had missed my second flgiht. Such a helpless feeling. I vowed to try and stay positive but it was getting harder and harder... especially since I was taking a budget airline that is one small jump from charging for air breathed during the flight so a meal or even a complimentary cup of water was out of the question. A three plus hour flight later and we arrived in Milan Malpensa airport.
I switched terminals and the glimmer of hope that my 2pm flight back to Moldova was delayed was dashed when all departing flights had been on time. I went to information asking what I could do, they directed me to the ticket counter. I asked if there was anything I could do, any stand-by spots, any flight credit, really anything avialable to me. Of course luck was not on my side. Zero flights to Chisinau that day. Ok, so the following day? There was a ticket for the following morning. Oh, excellent, I'll take it. Any discounts? Of course not. Do they accept cards? Of course not. Oh, and miss, the flight is actually at Bergamo, a different airport, about 75 kilometers outside of Milan in the opposite direction. Of course it is. But, not to worry you have all night to get there. So, is there a bus I can take to get there? Sure, you can get one at the central station in Milan after taking a €10 bus to get there. There are plenty of hotels around the station. No, I mean is there a direct bus from this airport to that airport? Uh, maybe you will have to go down stairs to check.
So, a few hundred dollars later I had a new ticket to an airport two hours away for an in-direct flight the following morning. I headed downstairs to find the shuttle. I found a kiosk and asked if they could help me. The two guys working the desk were unhelpful, but worse was the man standing next to the desk. He told me 'Oh, its off exit 4'. 'No, I need to find a shuttle.' 'No, you have to go by car. Off exit 4.' 'No, I need a shuttle, you aren't being helpful.' 'I can take you. We can stay at a hotel near exit 4.' Well, that was the tipping point. I told him off and high tailed it to the bathroom where I could cry and pull myself together.
In the stall I gave myself a pep talk. 'You are an adult. You just need to figure this out. No one is going to help you, you have to help yourself.' Gone are the days of dad figuring it out. But, a saying he used a lot was resonating in my mind 'sometimes life sucks, get over it'. At that moment I remembered it was Easter. Another wave a self pity hit. This was by far the worst. Easter. ever. I finally resolved to get myself out of this stupid bathroom stall. The following was my pep-talk.
'Ok, that's enough crying. You are fine. Yes, this sucks, but you are perfectly capable of taking care of this. Stop crying, you look ridiculous. Now, you will go outside and find this stupid shuttle. You will buy a ticket. You will find out when the next bus leaves. Then you will go and you will buy yourself a sundae at McDonalds and you will stop acting like a child.' ...and that is exactly what I did.
I really hate eating in restaurants alone, but I felt somewhat accomplished this time. I sat in that both with my big backpack, a new plane ticket, a shuttle bus ticket, and a hot fudge sundae. I realize a real adult probably wouldn't need to treat themselves to a sundae for doing a good job, but baby steps here people.
I later boarded the shuttle bus and found that there was free wifi aboard. After using my free thirty minutes frantically explaining the situation to my dad via facebook chat, I simply sat on the bus relieved that I was hopefully heading home. I realized the woman sitting behind me was speaking Romanian. When she finished her call I asked her where she was from, Ukraine. And, as luck would have it she was on the exact same flight as I was. Looks like I found myself a surrogate host mom for the night. We found a bench and hunkered down for a long sleepless night. After that long and dreadful day I could finally say I found my silver lining in this sweet woman from Ukraine.
I made it home to Moldova the next afternoon. I can honestly say I had never been so happy to be in Moldova. I finally felt home.
Peace
The following is a re-count of both the major travel days I had during my trip to Morocco. I will be following up this post with another post fully dedicated to the trip in the next few days, but every trip starts with its on adventure the 'getting there' portion. And, let's just say this trip had quite the 'adventure' in store for me.
The first day of the trip I traveled to Milan, Italy where I stayed for about 36 hours waiting for my onward flight to Marrakech, Morocco. I enjoyed this little break. I love Italy and the architecture and food are certainly more than enough to keep me enchanted for years.
The morning started early at my site in rural Moldova. After a quick shower and a double-check on my bag I headed out to an early morning bus taking me into Chisinau. I stopped in at the office desperate for an ipod charger. To no avail, I headed out to the airport. Sitting and waiting for a plane is much less enjoyable without music. Luckily, I saw two baseball caps walk into the terminal. BINGO. I picked up my bags and quickly made my way up to them without introduction I asked 'So, do either of you have an ipod charger?'. They did, I was in luck. They asked how I knew they were American... Well, when you walk in wearing polo tee-shirts tucked into jeans with your blackberry holstered at your side it is kind of a dead giveaway. Oh, and the baseball caps, nikes and backpacks were just the icing on your very clearly American cake. Sorry. We chatted for the next half hour before it was time to board. The guy asked if I had enough charge, I told him 'yes, until I run into the next American'.
The flight was uneventful. My layover in Rome was also boring, but at least I had music! The second flight was also uneventful (just what one wants in air travel). The contrast between the people on the first and second flight was comical. The first flight was full of typical Moldovans, parents and older people heading off to work in Italy. The second flight was full of business people in sleek business suits and leather briefcases. The women of Milan have this amazing sense of style. I can only aspire to one day look as put together as they do. It is this genetically engrained effortless style that I as a peace corps volunteer do not have.
After this second flight I high-tailed it to the train. Getting to the ticket office two minutes before the train I wanted departed. I ran to the platform and jumped on the train just as the doors shut. Thirty minutes later I was dropped at Cardona station in downtown Milan. I printed walking directions to my hostel before I had left Moldova so I pulled them out of my bag and began the walk. The route was twisty but the roads were well marked and I found the hostel without any problem. Ostello Bello, was a fun and lively hostel. I thoroughly enjoyed my stay. The complimentary welcome drink and free dinner buffet were just the cherry on top. After finishing my drink and enjoying my new found friends I decided it was time to turn in, it was a long day. It felt so good to be back on the road, just me and my backpack. And, who doesn't love a place where the streets smell like pizza and the windows are all treated with flowers and colorful shutters?
The following day the entire public transport system went on strike. This threw a monkey wrench in my plans to get back to the airport, but what's travel without a little bit of annoyance. I was able to resolve the problem and found a private bus system that shuttled to the airport. Problem resolved, like a pro.
The trip was absolutely amazing. My wonderful boyfriend and I had a great week exploring all the beauty that Morocco has to offer. I will share more from our trip later, but now I will share the hellish story of my long journey home to Moldova from Morocco after the trip.
This was easily the worst travel day I have had to date. After a crumby nights sleep in a nine person dorm I headed to the airport at 5am. The ticket and security process were a breeze. I waited in the holding area occasionally checking for the gate announcement. Five minutes before we were supposed to depart a announcement came over the intercom informing us our flight was delayed and that we would get an update in thirty minutes. All the flights began to get delayed. We were at a stand still. Sitting and staring at a departures board that deson't chang but keeps adding flights is by far worse than waiting for a pot of water to boil. I was sitting among other tourists mostly from Europe. Although the two groups of Americans I spotted found a way to complain louder and longer than anyone else. Finally, five hours later we were able to board and I knew I had missed my second flgiht. Such a helpless feeling. I vowed to try and stay positive but it was getting harder and harder... especially since I was taking a budget airline that is one small jump from charging for air breathed during the flight so a meal or even a complimentary cup of water was out of the question. A three plus hour flight later and we arrived in Milan Malpensa airport.
I switched terminals and the glimmer of hope that my 2pm flight back to Moldova was delayed was dashed when all departing flights had been on time. I went to information asking what I could do, they directed me to the ticket counter. I asked if there was anything I could do, any stand-by spots, any flight credit, really anything avialable to me. Of course luck was not on my side. Zero flights to Chisinau that day. Ok, so the following day? There was a ticket for the following morning. Oh, excellent, I'll take it. Any discounts? Of course not. Do they accept cards? Of course not. Oh, and miss, the flight is actually at Bergamo, a different airport, about 75 kilometers outside of Milan in the opposite direction. Of course it is. But, not to worry you have all night to get there. So, is there a bus I can take to get there? Sure, you can get one at the central station in Milan after taking a €10 bus to get there. There are plenty of hotels around the station. No, I mean is there a direct bus from this airport to that airport? Uh, maybe you will have to go down stairs to check.
So, a few hundred dollars later I had a new ticket to an airport two hours away for an in-direct flight the following morning. I headed downstairs to find the shuttle. I found a kiosk and asked if they could help me. The two guys working the desk were unhelpful, but worse was the man standing next to the desk. He told me 'Oh, its off exit 4'. 'No, I need to find a shuttle.' 'No, you have to go by car. Off exit 4.' 'No, I need a shuttle, you aren't being helpful.' 'I can take you. We can stay at a hotel near exit 4.' Well, that was the tipping point. I told him off and high tailed it to the bathroom where I could cry and pull myself together.
In the stall I gave myself a pep talk. 'You are an adult. You just need to figure this out. No one is going to help you, you have to help yourself.' Gone are the days of dad figuring it out. But, a saying he used a lot was resonating in my mind 'sometimes life sucks, get over it'. At that moment I remembered it was Easter. Another wave a self pity hit. This was by far the worst. Easter. ever. I finally resolved to get myself out of this stupid bathroom stall. The following was my pep-talk.
'Ok, that's enough crying. You are fine. Yes, this sucks, but you are perfectly capable of taking care of this. Stop crying, you look ridiculous. Now, you will go outside and find this stupid shuttle. You will buy a ticket. You will find out when the next bus leaves. Then you will go and you will buy yourself a sundae at McDonalds and you will stop acting like a child.' ...and that is exactly what I did.
I really hate eating in restaurants alone, but I felt somewhat accomplished this time. I sat in that both with my big backpack, a new plane ticket, a shuttle bus ticket, and a hot fudge sundae. I realize a real adult probably wouldn't need to treat themselves to a sundae for doing a good job, but baby steps here people.
I later boarded the shuttle bus and found that there was free wifi aboard. After using my free thirty minutes frantically explaining the situation to my dad via facebook chat, I simply sat on the bus relieved that I was hopefully heading home. I realized the woman sitting behind me was speaking Romanian. When she finished her call I asked her where she was from, Ukraine. And, as luck would have it she was on the exact same flight as I was. Looks like I found myself a surrogate host mom for the night. We found a bench and hunkered down for a long sleepless night. After that long and dreadful day I could finally say I found my silver lining in this sweet woman from Ukraine.
I made it home to Moldova the next afternoon. I can honestly say I had never been so happy to be in Moldova. I finally felt home.
Peace
No comments:
Post a Comment