Lahetrahot Yisrael, Bonjourno Italia!

Sitting on an express train to Florence, watching Italy’s rich and beautiful landscape rush past me, one thought keeps echoing through my head: There’s nowhere else I’d rather be then here, right now, and on my own. All year I’ve been telling friends and family that I preferred to be alone on this journey. But it wasn’t until I landed at Roma Fiumicino Airport that I truly believed it.

Despite the fact that I worked all year for this trip and was unquestionably excited, I spent most of my last week in Israel struggling to fight a head full of fear and a stomach full of butterflies. I seriously doubted my ability to go to Europe for two months on my own and began to imagine worst case scenarios if I happen to find myself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But when the time finally came for me to say my final goodbyes to the country I called home for the past 30 days, a peculiar tranquility came over me, and I knew I was ready. I took my last lonely walk down the dark and deserted side streets of Tel Aviv from Ronen’s apartment to Allenby street where my taxi was waiting for me, gave Ronen a big hug, and went on my way.

My flight was at 7am Monday morning. I was too excited/nervous to sleep the night before, so I was really looking forward to passing out on the flight. But for me, excitement is like crack, and it wasn’t until I reached the Airport in Athens, where I had a long layover, that it wore off enough for me to rest my eyes for a while. After nine hours of attempting to sleep comfortably, sprawled across three airport seats at gate B30, the plane arrived and I was on my way to one of the most beautifully chaotic cities in Europe: ROME.

The flight from Greece to Rome was just over an hour, and I couldn’t wait to scoop my baggage and hop the train to Latina where Ken, my CouchSurfing host lives. But of course, it wasn’t that easy. And as if to test me on my competence the minute I got off the plane, the baggage claim signs were few and far between and ended up leading to the airport exit. I followed the people who were on my flight- as I always do in a foreign airport, but they seemed to be just as confused as I was. After 30 minutes of running around the labyrinth that is Rome Fiumicino Airport with a mousy Greek girl named Lena from my flight, I saw my bag out of the corner of my eye and the maze was finally over.

I had to take two trains to get to Latina. The first from FCO airport to Roma Termini (the main station in Rome), then from Roma Termini to Latina. But the full day of chaotic traveling was definitely worth it when I arrived at Ken’s house, where five other CouchSurfers were waiting patiently to greet me with shots of a terribly harsh Italian liquor known as Grappa. Out of the six of us there were three Americans, one Turk, one Frenchie, and a Chinese girl named Jing. They all were leaving the next day to continue their travels except Jing, who arrived only a few hours before me. So her and I made plans to hit the city together on Tuesday, and soon after fell into a deep sleep on the tiniest couch known to man. After all, I was the last one to arrive, so its only fair I get the baby couch! Luckily, I was so tired I could have slept on a bed of jagged rocks and would sleep like a baby.

We woke up early the next morning and caught a train to the city. Taking the train in Italy can be a truly enchanting experience if you have a good view of the landscape. The way the soft grass of the scenic countryside sways slowly in the wind as you speed on past, it honestly feels like you are moving straight through the center of a watercolor painting. Once we arrived at Roma Termini station we took the metro to the Coliseum and was met by two men dressed in Roman costumes. Since I didn’t see anyone else around dressed that way, I figured they were just a couple of loons that got a kick out of dressing like a gladiator, and for some reason it didn’t occur to me that they were doing it for money. But shortly after I snapped a few pictures with them, and they enthusiastically changed poses between each shot, I began to realize that they would want something in return for their generous effort. As I suspected, once we flipped through the pictures together, one of them held out his royally dressed hand and politely asked for 20 euros. I told him he would get zero euros because he didn’t tell me before we took the pictures. So I spent the next five minutes fighting with him while he followed after us yelling at me to delete them, until I very politely asked him to get fucked, and he stormed off to go rip off some other unsuspecting tourists. At least I got some silly pictures out of it, and learned a nice lesson in the process.

The Coliseum was much more extraordinary than I expected. Even though it’s an image I’ve seen a million times over throughout the years, the pictures are incomparable to the real thing, and I was absolutely blown away by its raw, ancient beauty. We toured the inside for 16 euros after waiting in line for a half hour, but I don’t think it was worth the money. The outside is much more beautiful, and it was a lot more enjoyable to circle around the entire structure and tour the neighboring gardens of the Palatine Hill for free.

Jing and I spent the rest of the day and the day after touring all the major sights in Rome while eating an embarrassing amount of pizza, pasta and gelato. But hey, When in Rome, right? (Had to throw it in somewhere).

Rome is a wonderful city to get lost in. Each street reeks of ancient history, and the architecture of every building exemplifies the cities age. We walked around for hours, stumbling upon beautiful churches and incredible museums everywhere we went. The highlight for me was going into the Orsini Chapel at the very top of the Piazza de Spagna; the Spanish Steps-which is also free to visit. We walked through the big wooden doors and down the center of the old chapel, where a soft-spoken priest was leading a service in Italian to a nearly empty congregation. Really, the only people who were in attendance were 15 hooded nuns and monks dressed in white robes kneeling before him. The church’s presence was astounding, and you don’t have to be religious to be moved by it. We sat for a few minutes and listened to the priest speak while I studied the Chapel’s astonishing features: marble floors, huge white wooden arches on either side leading up to an obviously aged white ceiling with sizeable cracks forming down the center, beautiful murals painted on every wall with unpolished, gold trimming. Then all of a sudden, my concentration was broken by beautiful singing, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them. They truly sounded like angels and it brought me to tears. At the end of the service they walked down the center and shook everyone’s hands, and we left them to their prayers after sitting inside for what seemed like an eternity. It was an amazing experience to say the least.
Watch the video I took here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRGil1vLPz8

On my last night in Latina, we had another American CouchSurfer named Jeff join Jing and I, and Ken took us to a nearby beach in Latina where we had a picnic of pizza and Italian beer. After finishing off both, we went for a swim in the Tyrrhenian Sea and watched the sun go down from the cold and incredibly tame blue water. It was a fantastic ending to my first CouchSurfing experience. Once we returned home and took a few shots of absinthe that Jeff brought from his previous travels, I laid in bed pondering what other wonderful experiences I will be wrapped up in the next two months.

Which brings me here, Alone and happy about it, with Kerouac’s “On The Road” laying open in my lap, preparing for my next adventure in Florence. I don’t know what to expect, but I’m sure it will be amazing.