
My British Airways flight left San Francisco in the afternoon on April 30 and flew directly to London Heathrow. I had to hustle through that giant airport so I wouldn't miss my connecting flight to Rome. What I didn't know at the time was that the one suitcase I brought with me for two whole months decided not to hustle with me. When I arrived in Rome, I was bagless.
Under most other circumstances, my former self would've felt agitated or angry. But I didn't. I was too happy that after a year of thinking about this trip and then planning this trip, I was finally ON this trip. I was too happy to be in Rome. I was too happy I got here in one piece. I was too happy I finally watched "About Time" as per my best friend's recommendation and weeped uncontrollably on the plane while also laughing at the fact that she had totally warned me that that would happen. (Thank you Co, my waterworks partner in crime.) So my bag wasn't here. Eh, it would get here eventually.
I was informed that my bag was indeed on the next flight out from London and would arrive within the hour. Fabulous! Time for one of my favorite things ever: people watching. I saw a group of elderly couples from a tour all helping each other collect their bags. I saw parents holding the hands of sleepy children, slowly sucking on pacifiers and holding security blankets. I saw Italian women channeling their inner Donatella Versace with platinum blonde hair, leather pants and high heels. Next thing I knew, my bag had arrived. Boom.
Being that I was already late meeting my landlord to get my apartment keys, I decided to take a taxi instead of trying to figure out which bus/train to take into the San Giovanni neighborhood. As soon as I showed the cranky driver my address he started complaining about how much traffic he'd have to endure to get me there. I just smiled at him and nodded. All good buddy, just go. We'll survive. And that we did. Some Google map action, a couple of side streets and (voila!) that wasn't so bad, was it buddy? As soon as I gave him a 5 Euro tip, he was my best friend and gave me his card, in case I ever needed another ride somewhere.
Now, the apartment.
I spent months trying to find the perfect place on Airbnb and every bit of research was worth it. This place is superb. Major street, one block from the metro. Sixth floor, newly renovated apartment with all the windows facing a quiet courtyard. It's clean, it's comfortable and it's the perfect size, just small enough to be cozy and big enough to not feel claustrophobic. There's a giant supermarket across the street, a gelato shop next door and pizza by the slice around the corner. Jackpot! I couldn't be happier with my choice.
I'm in Rome, people. I'M IN ROME. And this is home for the next month…
Ever so grateful.