An journey within a journey—the 48+ who knows how much many more hours back to the states

My journey here is coming to an end. I’m hanging at a really nice hotel in Pisa, literally right across the street from the central Pisa train station, with Chrissy. We were going to go to Lucca, but the sun/thoughts of lots of traveling ahead of us kept us here, relaxing. This morning, all of us roommates plus some others took a group van taxi the airport. Signora Pizzi, the landlady, saw us off, as did the poor old woman whose apartment was between the other three of ours, full of Americans. She never said much, besides the “ciao” or “buona sera” as she went in and out and ran into one of us, and the few times she practically ripped our heads off for using the washing machine outside. She watched us leave from the terrace as she had her morning cigarette. She smiled and waved her dainty, bumpy hand. She was probably thinking something like “good riddens.” She’ll finally have some peace and quiet. The first of the roommates to part was Summer, once we reached the airport. Then Chrissy and I saw Amber off a few hours later, and then there were two. Sarah G, Chrissy, and I walked around Pisa, found some great pizza and shopping, and then they saw me off as I headed off to the airport.

And now, writing from JFK airport …
After a day in Pisa, left at 9:30pm for Gatwick. I met Amanda from NYC at the Gatwick airport, and we stuck together and took a taxi together to Heathrow and kept each other company when we slept intermittently throughout our long overnight layovers. This was much more comfortable than the way over, by—instead of being on the tile floor and not even able to put my back flat against the wall due to the low metal bar that was in front of the wall throughout the entire check out area, and all by myself, I had company and we crashed on the surprisingly comfy booths at Costa coffee in Terminal 5. I actually think I got a decent few hours of sleep. Just having some company made all the difference in the world. Now, at the last leg of my trip, my flight to Rochester got cancelled. Argh. I’m on standby for a 10:00pm flight (it’s now almost 5), and if I can’t make that one I have to spend the night here and I have flight tomorrow. Arghhhh.

A few hours later ...
My flight got cancelled, so I'm chilling at a hotel for the evening. Be back in the states in less than 24 hours! Finally!