See, the plan was to meet one of my friends out there. Flights were purposely picked to arrive within an hour of each other so we could link up and then find the hotel. Well, that's a great plan if both flights land in the same terminal. Not completely freaking out when I realized the different airlines did in fact arrive in different terminals, I caught the shuttle down to the next terminal where his flight had arrived 45 minutes prior. He of course was no where to be seen, and so panic began to set in.
What kind of idiot travels without getting his number from the email? Why don't I have a copy of the hotel reservations? Do I even know the name of the hotel? What am I doing here?
Luckily, I have amazing friends that look out for me and as I waited to get back on the shuttle (thinking maybe we crossed paths?) I frantically texted to see who was up and willing to hack my email for info. Paranoid or maybe just observant I watched out the window and guess who I found? Yep. I actually snuck up on him because he was too busy trying to figure out how to get into town. Seeing a friend after a while is always a fabulous event, but finding one when you're near panic, in a new country, exhausted, and it's almost midnight? Dare I say priceless? And yes, hug worthy.
It all worked out. (This time and yeah, USA Katie tendencies will be sticking around on trip planning for just a while longer...)
The weekend was fabulous but throughout the trip there were several things that just made me say "we're not in Italy are we?" Since he's been living in Europe too there were several conversations of "what do you mean it's not like this in Italy?" Which would then lead to the "I know, you only saw Rome and Rome isn't Naples." (Which a couple from around Rome while at La Sagrada Familia totally confirmed by their reaction when the heard I was living in Naples...)
I love Italy. I really do. But sitting outside at a cafe sipping sangria while birds chirped, cars obeyed traffic signals, and leaves floated in the wind just felt like home. Don't interpret this wrong- it didn't feel like the US. I could still tell I was overseas due to the levels of smokers, attention to detail in architecture, and the "all the time in the world" mentality.
But then on our adventures things would transport me back to Naples, like a car parking in a spot that required full bumper contact. Of course everyone stood looking on in horror while I just continued to walk down the sidewalk. Totally normal in my world.
What wasn't normal? The huge parks in the middle of city. Trash cans every corner with 99% of trash actually in them, not on the ground. Cars passed without honking. The plethora of cuisine offered by the restaurants lining the streets. Streets truly meant for driving "normal sized cars" and sidewalks for more than a single file line of pedestrians.
Several times, especially when crossing streets, I realized I was very paranoid to cross until I not only saw the "green guy" but also double checked for cars up to 10 seconds after the light change. Jaywalking? I don't think I did that until Sunday afternoon and even then I wasn't happy about it.
Language was another huge thing. From day one of Italian class, I've had to train myself to remeber that just because it's not English doesn't mean that Spanish will work. For months I've been trying to replace the few Spanish palabras that remain from my high school days con italiano. I'm happy to report that the change is taking place. When trying to do the simplest of order (ie for coffee) latte came to mind rather than leche. Small is now piccolo, not penqueno. There were so many other instances that I caught myself translating between English, Italian, and Spanish each night to try to straighten my brain out. Even numbers threw me for a loop. Then again, with Catalan who knows what you're really hearing...
After getting back to Naples on Monday, I thanked the gas attendant with a gracias. Go figure since I think just about everyone in Spain got a grazie. Now he really thinks I'm crazy.
One thing I found that still (yep, still) hasn't changed is my jumpiness with lizards. By "stick lizard" sighting three one afternoon I think MAJ545 was seriously questioning how sane I was. One day I'll get over it. Maybe.
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