Somewhere Northeast of Newfoundland
Air travel is never the most glamorous undertaking. Unless you’re flying in a 1960s PanAm commercial (the kind with little pillbox hats and fancy drinks), traveling by plane is apt to be crowded, frustrating, and full of the hurry-up-and-wait that most of us (myself included) are really bad at. But even knowing that flying is full of TSA checks and limits on liquids and infants sobbing because of cabin pressure changes, I keep hoping it will be the sort of experience I see in glossy magazines: civilized, comfortable, and ending with me and my fellow travelers waltzing off the plane looking fresh-pressed and well-rested.
Maybe if we were in first class. Alas, we are not, and therefore I anticipate getting off the plane in Frankfurt feeling in need of a good yoga session and a shower.
But allowing for all the normal frustrations of travel, the first leg of our trip went relatively smoothly: no problems with TSA, and we got to the gate with plenty of time to allow the kids a chance to go and grab something to eat and drink before takeoff. Boarding was efficient– given that we’re on a German airline, I wouldn’t expect anything else– and while I’m in the unenviable position of having a Dreaded Middle Seat, my row mates are top notch. Andrew and Gio are currently playing Uno, I think, although I know there’s been some discussion of watching Kung Fu Panda 3 as well.
(Coach Auld has the aisle next to me, and spent the first part of the trip watching Leonardo DiCaprio fight a bear. I watched some droids and lightsabers save the galaxy again. I think my choice was more relaxing.)
As we’ve all been fed and watered and the cabin lights have been turned out, I’m going to put on some music and pretend like I can actually sleep on moving vehicles and try my hand achieving some sort of unconsciousness before we land in Frankfurt.
Concourse A42 in Frankfurt
Layover in progress! It’s 8:35 AM local time (which I think puts us in the 2 AM hour back home), and the kids have an hour to find some food, stretch, and try to freshen up as best they can before the next leg of our trip. I’ve staked out a seat at the very end of the terminal to sprawl and write this, and I’m watching planes taxi in along the runway in the fog. I couldn’t tell you what Germany looks like– from here, it looks like pavement and air traffic controllers’ towers and a thick grey sky. I believe this means that by the Laws of Travel, I still can’t say I’ve been to Germany, as I haven’t left the airport.*
I had some modest success in my attempt to achieve unconciousness on our last flight; there are about two hours for which I can’t fully account, and I missed several episodes of the podcast I was listening to, so I’m going to pretend that means I actually slept. The kids had better luck, I think– I saw several of them curled up and checked out for several hours at least, so hopefully that means that we’ll be able to hold of the worst of travel fatigue until we manage to check into our hotel outside of Rome this evening. (The winner of the Most Sleep Award goes to Parris, by the way, who has just informed me she “only” slept for five hours on the flight. My jealousy is immense.)
Everything continues to go smoothly, although I managed to trip going up a flight of stairs on our way out of the gate and now have an enormous bruise north of my left knee. I’d say nothing was hurt but my pride, but that would be a lie. Ouch. But the pride took the bigger hit. And frankly, I’m sure that’s not the only bruise I’ll get on this trip, because I am a grade A klutz. Ms. Husband isn’t feeling terribly well right now, either, as she got hit by a bout of motion sickness during our last flight, which is never fun. But she’s resting a bit and has taken some Dramamine, so hopefully she’ll be feeling right as rain soon enough.
Now it’s time for me to rejoin the group, count up my girls, and off we’ll go on flight number two!
L’Ottava Hotel, Someplace Outside of Rome (I Wasn’t Paying Attention)
About eighty percent of my brain right now is arguing in favor of going upstairs to my hotel room and crashing until dinner. But if I do that, I know I’m going to be Zombie Ms. Galloway, incapable of holding a conversation or writing a complete thought. Therefore, I have unpacked (as much as I’m going to) and plugged the electronics in to charge, and headed down to the courtyard in front of the hotel to write up this account. Sleep will have to wait a while longer.
It’s really lovely out here– we’re about fifty minutes outside of Rome proper, and our hotel is up on a hillside. I’m currently looking down into a valley with occasional stripes of olive green vineyards and red tile roofs, and at the edge of the valley the Apennine Mountains rise up like watercolor sentries.
Several kids have joined me out here– Gio and Andrew and Chiara are continuing an epic game of Uno, and Malik and Evan and several others are playing a game of Heads Up on someone’s phone. And while they look tired, I’m seeing a lot of smiles.
The kids were troopers today (and yesterday? I’m not sure how to count the passage of time right now); we arrived at Rome at around 12:30 local time, and at that point, we’d been traveling for more than fourteen hours, and most of us hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours. We were met at baggage claim by a representative from EF, found our bags without too much of a delay, gave the kids a chance to clean up in the bathrooms– and then met our tour director, Alex, and jumped right onto the bus and headed into Rome to see the sights. And while we were certainly tired, and probably thinking fondly of the possibility of sleep, it really does make sense to just power through and beat the jet lag with brute force.
So! As we drove into Rome, Alex gave us some background information about the city and what we could see out the window. Which– I have to be honest, it is extremely weird as a history teacher to look out a window and see the site where Julius Caesar was stabbed (twenty-three times!), or to see the arches of the Colosseum off in the distance, or to watch Vespas weave between cars in the alleys behind Vatican City. I’ve been lucky enough to travel a fair bit thus far in my life, but it never stops surprising me when I can see that the places I’ve studied and read about and seen in movies are actually real, that they have a presence beyond my imagination.
That would be the value of travel, my friends.
Eventually, our bus driver found a place to park, and we ventured out to visit a few piazzas and stretch our legs. We visited the Trevi fountain, where students threw in coins, took selfies, and bought their first Italian gelatos, and then walked past the Temple to Agrippa, and took a little time inside the Pantheon. (This intrepid reporter has to admit she spent an inordinant amount of time at the tomb of Raphael. School of Athens Raphael– not Ninja Turtles Raphael.) The kids probably have a million pictures, but I’ll upload a few as well when I’ve got a chance.
And now– I think that’s about for today! Tomorrow we’ll be going to the Colosseum and Vatican City, so we need to eat well, sleep fast, and get ready for another awesome day of adventures.
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* Note to Emily: The Laws of Travel do, however, state that a person has been to a place if they have driven through it, even if they didn’t stop. Therefore I have been to Brazil, and also Idaho.
A History of Adventure 