We Made it to Firenze!

I have been up for over 24 hours now and am very, very, very exhausted to say the least. I traveled with my momma from Portland, Oregon to Amsterdam (10 hour flight) then hopped on another plane (or as they say it in Italian--which is so much cooler to say by the way--aeroplano) to Firenze (Florence), Italy (1 hour flight). The first aeroplano ride was nice. We were non-revving (flying for free) and were able to get a business class seat. Yay! I learned something today. I sleep better on a flatten out tray table than I do on one of those fancy business seats that stretches out into a bed.
Weird, right?
I thought so too.
I watched two movies on my personal little TV screen that popped out of the arm on my chair: "X-Men: First Class" (go Jennifer Lawrence!) and "Something Borrowed." The latter movie is one of those really stupid chick flicks where you know EXACTLY what is going to happen next, but for some annoying reason you just can't turn it off.
Here are some things you should not be thinking, while flying:

1. Ooh, we are flying over the Titanic right now! (This one isn't too bad, but look where it leads...)
2. Ugh, that would suck to drown in cold water... (Just cold water, Amanda? I think drowning in any sort of water would SUCK. Weirdo. And yes... it would suck to drown in cold water. It gets much worse from here.)
3. [Turbulence] I hope we don't crash. 
4. [More turbulence] Oh god, we are going to crash... right next to the Titanic. Great. 

You would think with parents in the airline industry turbulence wouldn't both me, but it kind of did this time. I don't know--must be something about flying over water that bugs me.

Oh yes, I should mention I totally over-ate on this first flight. Bleh. I felt sick when I walked off the plane. 

Ok good useless facts, moving on...

When we got to Amsterdam and walked across those moving belt things (what the heck are those things called? I'm lacking sleep here, so no making fun of me!) the little muffled voice over kept saying: Mind your step. 

She would not shut up. I heard her a million times and was starting to get rather grouchy at this point. We bought some stroupel-waffles (I'm guessing I spelled this wrong. Oh well. If you've had them you'll know what I mean. They are pretty darn delicious.)

This makes my mouth water. So good with hot chocolate. 

Then Mom and I got on our next flight. It was really hot and muggy on the plane, which doesn't exactly help you out when your stomach is bloated to its maximum capacity and you are super duper tired. The seats were tight and I developed a mega headache. I sat in the middle seat too... (ok no I just sound like a huge whiner right now... you have permission to skip this paragraph if you wish.) I flipped open my tray table and tried to sleep on it, but then got violently conked in the head when the lady in front of me leaned her chair back. I'll probably get a huge bump from it. So, I didn't get any sleep on that flight either, even though my body was pretty much begging for it. 

The view from the window was absolutely gorgeous, especially when we flew over the Swiss Alps. Oh my goodness gracious. It was amazing. So, so, so incredible. 

Then we landed in Italy!!! When I stepped outside the heat curled around my body like a comforting hug (there... like how I got all fancy and literary there even though I am falling asleep as I type?). 

We grabbed our luggage--which was easy to find since I painted brilliant reds and yellows on my suitcase--and then grabbed a cab to our hotel. As we drove to our, I unrolled the windows because it was in the mid 80s today I think. It felt very nice. Firenze definitely has its own smell. I kept thinking about how to describe this smell to you as we were driving--then it hit me. It smelled of incense. It reminded me of a yoga shop. When we stepped out of the taxi the air was now a mixture of incense and cigarettes.

When walked up to our creepy looking hotel. 

Why creepy?

Well, I call it creepy because the stairs led up to this really dark room with nothing but a staircase and elevator. A very old elevator, you know the wooden kind where you have to close the glass doors and then the cage-like door? 

Yes? No?

Well, that's what it was like and at first we had a difficult time operating it because the whole dark room with creepy elevator and stairs looked like a spot where murders lurked. Thankfully a very kind Australian woman helped us out with the elevator. The three of us (keep in mind mom and I had our suitcases and backpacks) squished into the tiny elevator and lethargically made our way up to the third floor. The elevator made these awful squeaking noises that inevitably led me to thinking about The Tower of Terror and California Adventure.
Again, not the best thing to be thinking about at the moment. As you can see... I have a tendency to think creepy thoughts like this.

That leads to our balcony. Such a cool shot right?

Our hotel room is perfect. Two beds. Large windows. Balcony. Very, very, very nice. I think I will show photos instead of describing it because I have talked a lot so far.

View from my window. My very LARGE window. 

Balcony. 

My bed. 

Yes, so you need to step UP into the bathroom or you will trip. Know how I know this?

Bathroom. 

Very tired looking Amanda. 

Towel wrack... so exciting. 

View from balcony. 

Momma on her large bed. 

High ceiling. 

Large windows. You could fall out. 

Love this shot! Kind of eery. 

So I was definitely jet-lagging this afternoon. Well, makes sense. It wasn't even time to wake up at home and I had been up for more than 24 hours. I am human and need to sleep. That's what we humans do... well at least some of us. Mom only let me sleep for an hour and a half because I need to get used to this time zone, but ugggghhhh!!! You can look on my facebook because mom took a photo of this lovely jetlagged look of mine. It scares the hell out of me. Tell me if it scares you.


Mom and I walked outside (taking the stairs this time) into the city and got some gelato.
Ok... this is where our story gets interesting.
Want to know why?
Of course you do.
Two words: Italian men.
So, I am not going to lie, I was forewarned about these interesting creatures. I just didn't understand how true these statements actually were...
So, there my mom and I were picking out what we wanted to eat and this EXTREMELY (not exaggerating here at all) attractive Italian man came out to scoop us up some gelato, but this was not his primary concern. He wanted to know where we came from. Why we were in Firenze? Ok so here's the thing (as Erika Juengling would say) Italian men do not know where Oregon is so we just resorted to California... yeah, they understood where California was. Well, I never really asked to try out certain flavors, but this hot-Italian-googly-eyed man kept trying to NO JOKE spoon feed us all sorts of different flavors. I was like: Uh, no thanks, I will take the spoon from your hand.
Well, then once we sorted out what flavors we wanted he came around the corner and started kissing our hands and hugging us. Needless to say, the dork who doesn't get much attention from boys in the first place was a little overwhelmed. Let's just say the man made me blush big time. If I were to ask me what fruit best symbolized me, at that moment I would have said: tomato.
Hands down tomato.

This picture cracks me up. The guys we met did not have long gelled back hair like this, though. 

Are you still reading?
Good, I salute you.
If not, well obviously what I write here isn't going to make much of a difference.
Ok, at this point in our story mom and I had gobbled up our delicious gelato. I got mango by the way and mom got lemon. Delicious as expected. Next we went walking in the park and sat down on a bench. We watched stray dogs wandering around the park and peeing on various different items. Yes, so exciting. There were also a gazillion pigeons at this park. One of them landed on this statue in front of us and pooped on that statue's head. Gross. Then one pigeon's wings skimmed the tip of my head. Gross.


Hopefully this paragraph did not bore you to bits because I have another interesting scene to describe to you. So, that first Italian man encounter was a bit much for me and I was already burnt out for the day, but... that wasn't the last of the Florence-Day-1-Italian-Man Saga (just made that up by the way). So, picture this. My mom and I are at the park. Innocently admiring the pigeons pooping on the head of this ginormous statue when this Italian man comes up to my mother and starts touching her arms (creeper):


Italian man #2: You are so beautiful. (Remember I'm the dork, so he was definitely talking to my mother not me)
Mom: (Awkwardly giggling): Grazie
Italian man #2: Where are you from?
Mom: Oregon
[Italian man #2: Looking at her with perplexed googly eyes]
Mom: California
Italian man #2: Oh (smiling widely, now he understands...) very nice.
[Just got those googly-eyes going on my momma. Feeling a little awkward here. Kind of wanting a pigeon to poop on HIS head]
Italian man #2: Do you have a boyfriend?
Mom: [Points to her wedding ring] Yes, husband. I am married.
Italian man #2: (Sighs) Oh... well YOU MAKE LOTS OF LOVE to this man.
[Mom nodding awkwardly. I just about pooped my pants]
Italian man #2: Well, good day. (Gives mom's shoulder one last pat and then is on his way.)


Ok, I don't know about you, but when a stranger strolls up to your mother and then tells her to MAKE LOTS OF LOVE with your father the gag reflexes sort of kick in to place. Bleh. Bleh. Bleh. Not the image I needed in my head.

I think you know what I am thinking here. 

So then we went back to our hotel. Walked up to our room. Smokey, smokey hallways. I am definitely going to suffer from second-hand smoke here. Cough, cough, gag, gag... can someone say lung replacement???
I worked on my blog for a little bit and then we went out to eat. We walked down the block a little ways to this fabulous ristorante (yes, genius that is "restaurant" in Italian). I nibbled on the bread, which has a much different taste than the bread in America. I don't exactly know how to put it, but mom said they use different wheat so I am guessing that had something to do with it. But I also think it has something to do with no sugar added. I had penne pasta with tomato sauce and oh my goodness gracious people.... it was delicious... seriously THE BEST Italian dish I have ever had, which makes sense. I am in Italy now. Here's how I know it was THE BEST. See, I'm not a tomato person and I actually ate all the tomatoes in this dish... yep, it was THAT good. As I said in a Facebook post... with all this carbolicious food, my pants are going to choke the living daylights out of me by the end of this trip.


It was interesting because this family came in and these two young, young girls, maybe under the age of eight were drinking little glasses of wine. It was really cool and different at the same time. Those two little girls were two cute. They kept bickering in Italian. My brother and I bickered a lot (bickered? are you kidding me... we still bicker), but my mother probably would have preferred that we bickered in Italiano. It was a very relaxing, enjoyable evening.


So now I am sitting outside on the balcony, nice warm air blowing my hair around, the smell of lung cancer (aka: cigarettes) is in the air, and I am writing my first blogpost from Italy. I am not even tired now because it is noon at home. But it is almost eleven at night here. Great. I'll get used to it though.


That is all I have for the day. I hope to write at least every other day on this blog because I know a lot more interesting (wink, wink) things will happen to me on this Italian journey. Thanks for tuning in. Hopefully it is entertaining to read as it is to experience and write.


Arrivederci!


P.S: I got an Italian cell phone. Just thought that was some cool information that needed to be put in before I published this sucker.