#2 Friday, March 7 Our First Day in Italy or "I haven't come this far for a drive by look at the Leaning Tower."

Let me preface this entry by saying, if I had known how the day would turn out, I would have spent more time praying after reading my devotion on the plane.

The day begins with a beautiful sunrise over the Alps. I pass on the breakfast and drink the cup of o.j. and go to the restroom to freshen up a bit (ha ha). We debark and go through a passport check and then claim our luggage. Pablo, our bus driver, is waiting for us with the obligatory "Mr. Brindley" sign and leads us to our bus, our home for the day. May I interject at this point I did not know a bus could look so good after sitting between two strangers for eight hours. We load our luggage and head into Milan to see the Duomo, the second largest cathedral in Italy after St. Peter's. Basilica in Rome.

On the hour ride, we get a glimpse of the outer city of Milan and the thoroughfare, along with the blooming shrubs, flowers and trees. The foliage is much like that of Mississippi , bright yellow forsythia, Japanese magnolias, and the glossy green leaf magnolias.

We arrive at the center of Milan to visit our destination. Old buildings with scroll work, sculpture and the necessary gargoyle rain spouts line the streets. We walk through an elegant shopping piazza with Armani, Prada, Ferragamo, and other Italian fashion names lining the the street and offering the finest and most expensive merchandise. One of the streets leads to the open piazza and the Duomo. After spending time on and around the ground floor of the cathedral, some of us ride the lift to the top while others climb the steps (Yay, Drew) to view the piazza below and the city with the Alps in the distance. We also see the La Scala Opera House from the outside only since it is closed to visitors this day.

The Duomo in Milan. The boards in front are part of scaffolding that is being used in cleaning the building. The church is the largest example of Gothic architecture in Italy.

I'm standing on the steps of the cathedral with the Piazza del Duomo in the background.

The Piazza del Duomo from the roof of the cathedral.

We load the bus again for a four hour ride to Pisa to the the famous Leaning Tower of Pisa, which will stay etched in my mind for a long while. A quick stop at an Autogrill puts us on our way to Pisa. Note: There is the phenomenon all around the major highways in Italy known as an Autogrill. It is a fancy version of what we have here in the states known as a truck stop. There are quarters for drivers to rest and shower and restrooms for travelers to visit for a needed break. But this is where the similarity stops. There is also a fast food court of sorts, along with a mini grocery store and shopping area--think Cracker Barrel but more sophisticated. You can purchase fast food, pizza, and pasta along with fries and cokes. But even better, is the Italian sandwiches you can purchase with all kinds of meats, seasonings, cheeses, and veggies. They are served on flat breads or panini bread or hard rolls. Never underestimate the meal that can be purchased at the Autogrill! The Greshams need to look into this concept for the Double Quick. I regret I did not get a picture of the Autogrill setup. At this point, I was not hungry so I did not even go in. I ate a pack of nabs and drank some water, a decision I would later regret.

We make our way over the mountains of northern Italy and drive south heading to Pisa. We have a very sleepy drive through the Tuscany region and countryside. I have often heard of the beautiful Tuscany area, but this part was not that beautiful. As a mater of fact, it reminded me of the Mississippi Delta with its areas of poverty and rundown landscape. We are now traveling in rain that turns to snow as we climb the elevation. Haiden, one of the students on the trip, is disappointed when we go back down and the snow turns to rain again. We drive into a rainy Pisa, but our spirits are not dampened, at least some of our spirits are not dampened, and we prepare to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Note: As a young student in school, I was always mesmerized by pictures I would see of the Leaning Tower, and it was a dream of mine to see it at some point in my life, so rain was not going to stop me now.

As we get off the bus, we are surrounded by Africans hawking umbrellas to protect us from the rain, no matter that we had on rain gear and our own umbrellas. They could be rather forceful and intimidating, and we had to respond with a forceful "No!" at times. I could see where they could be rather scary to our little whitebred southern belle students. But isn't that the purpose of travel, to be exposed to life and get out of our comfort zone? Remember that comfort zone statement! Anyway, we load on to a shuttle bus that takes us to a drop off point and then walk on to the old city gate of Pisa. Note: It is important to take in your surroundings as you walk in unfamiliar places, i.e. keep you mouth shut and watch where you are going. We walk along the old city wall and then look to the left and see the Leaning Tower, framed by an archway. We enter through the arched gate, and there is the picture I had gazed upon so many times. I had finally made it to see The Leaning Tower of Pisa.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa bathed in the rain.

It is still raining, and the faint of heart decide they have seen enough. Not me. In my own words, "I have not come this far for a drive by look at the Leaning Tower." I purchase my ticket with several others from our group and prepare to tour the Baptistery, Church and the Tower. We learn that we are too late to go up into the tower but can tour the inside of the other two structures. I have my obligatory picture made with my traveling buddies and head out to see the sites as they head back to the bus. Sissies!

Cathy, DK and Shirley at the Leaning Tower of Pisa

Those who know me well, know what a detail person I am, so when I visit a museum or point of interest, I read every plaque and look intently at every statue and painting. It is no different here. I wander the Baptistery and the Church and walk around the Tower, looking at it from every angle. It is still raining, and the sun is starting to fade. Time to go. Where is my crew? Which way do I get back to the drop off? "Do you speak English? ", "Inglese?", "Dove la polizia?" Yes, I am officially separated from my group. Notice I do not say lost. I know where I am. I just can't get back to my group. Okay, what to do? My rational self says, "Stay here. Do not wander the streets tryinig to find your way!" My spiritual self prays to God to keep me safe and put good people in my path. My mortal self says, "You have messed up royally!", and I am really out of my comfort zone.

I stand in the rain for 45 minutes talking to my self, asking for directions to the bus drop off from vendors and walking no more than two blocks in each direction trying to find the drop-off. I ask an ambulance driver to call the police for me. I think several times, "If only I had kept my mouth shut and paid attention to my surroundings, I would not be in this predicament." It is dark now, and I am soaked. A taxi ride to Florence will be too expensive, but I could take a train to Florence if I could get a taxi to take me to the train station. Where are the polizia? Yeah, they have no intention of coming and are laughing at the Americano stupido. Every scenario of how to catch up to my group runs through my mind. Then out of the dark and rain I hear, "DK!" I turn to see John Brindley, my beautiful beautiful friend Shirley, and backup man, Robert Sledge. "Yes, Lord you are good!; I am rescued!" They inform me that a bus load of concerned folks is waiting on me and Mary Ruth is near tears, imagining every worse scenario from the Africans dragging me off to my wandering the streets alone. We start back and I realize my path to the bus drop off is as simple as following the city wall. Duh!!!!

A group sigh of relief goes up when everyone sees my red coat, and as I get on the bus there is a silence followed by several hushed,"Thank God!" Tears are rolling down Mary Ruth's checks, and she hugs me out of relief that she doesn't have to call my husband and tell him she lost me, or should I say I lost myself. Now that she is relieved, she is ready to kill me, never mind our 20 year friendship. An hour late we leave Pisa, headed for Florence with a bus load of relieved adults and hungry kids.

Well, I have seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa and can check that off my Bucket List. Now, I need to figure out how to get back in MR's good graces and profess my mea culpas!

Okay, I know you're asking, "Why didn't you just call someone on the bus?" I didn't have a phone. Only one person brought a phone with international minutes, and I did not have that number. I also did not have the local number of the bus driver or the number of EuroAmerican, who could have gotten in touch with the bus driver. We had not really made a group plan of what to do if we got separated from our group. Needless to say, all this was covered before our next day.

Several people asked me if I cried. Those of you who know me, know that I cry quite easily when I talk about my spiritual faith, think about my family, or watch touching movies and tv programs. But, when I get in this type of situation, crying is the farthest emotion from my mind. I try to be as logical as possible, which is one of the reasons MR was so worried. She knew me too well to know that I would not show up without a good reason. The rest of the trip the question was, "Is DK with us?" or "Where is the red coat?"

After after a two hour bus ride, we arrive in the dark thanks to me, in Florence, throw our luggage in the hotel bar and walk to our restaurant to eat. What a wonderful way to end such a miserable day. We dine at the La Marmare Ristorante and begin with bread and olive oil and fresh ground pepper. Wine is ordered all around and we wait for the first course. The waiter brings a penne pasta with a cheesy sauce. I have to remember not to stuff myself because in Italian fashion there is another course coming. Next is a cut of beef smothered in a gravy with roasted potatoes. Our dessert is a like a flan custard with a chocolate sauce and powdered sugar. Yeah, it was a wonderful meal!!! It was even more wonderful because I only had eaten a pack of nabs and drank o.j. all day long.

We stroll back to the hotel, but before arriving, Cathy manages to trip and fall. It is a very easy thing to do with the cobblestone streets and curbs. She doesn't hurt any bones but does a real number on her knee and manages to rip a tear in her jeans across the entire knee. We settle into room 203 of the River Hotel on the Arno River. We take our much-needed baths. Remember we haven't had a bath since we left the good ole US of A. After our baths we fall into our beds for the soundest sleep I have had in a long time.