Finally, I got on the plane to Lisbon, Portugal. This, of course, was after a long conversation and some very suavely spoken Portugese with a beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous, so so so sexy Portugese flight attendant. Seriously, I wanted to learn Portugese on the spot. The flight over wasn't bad. I was on the end of the middle row of the plane, and the two women next to me were great. One was Portugese and lives in the US- we chatted about the different educational systems and reforms, etc....right up my alley. Unfortunately, across the aisle from me was an adorable BABY. You can guess how that went. They left the lights on the entire flight, and I was in the very back row, so we were pretty cozy with the flight attendants, which was great for my "more agua please." You know what else is in the back of an airplane? The toilet. ooo, fun. Anyway, I survived. Our flight got in a little late and I had less than twenty minutes to get the bus to the terminal, through customs, and to my next terminal and gate. Luckily, my next flight ended up getting delayed three times, so I made it. Customs was so easy- I hope it's that easy on the way out. I got my first Euros at the airport while I waited! I couldn't get them in Newark because EVERY SINGLE ATM in the two terminals I was in was out of commission for servicing and the money exchange's credit card reader was down. Just my luck, of course. Anyway, like I was saying, my luck was improving for a little while. Because the flight was so late, I got into Rome later than expected. I found some really helpful people along the way, found the train to the main train station, Termini, and purchased my ticket and got on the train- all without difficulty. Then, I had quite a time trying to get a ticket to Florence, who's Italian name is Firenze. I bought a ticket for the fast train (1 hr 35 min as opposed to 4 hrs) and barely made it on the train. Thank goodness for information kiosks in the EU!!! I dozed off for the first time and scared myself half to death that I'd missed my stop and was going to wind up somewhere in northern Italy with my luggage and fantastic knowledge of the Italian language (code for: none).
Long story short: I made it.
So, we reunited, went to the apartment, and went for a long walk along and across the Arno to get my first Italian meal: Pizza Margherita and a Coca-Cola light. All was instantly made well.