Adventure.

I planned on packing three days before I left.  I should've been more realistic with myself.  I'm a procrastinator and, as a procrastinator, I must stay true to their golden rule: Wait to the last minute for everything.  Such a frustrating rule, that one.  So it wasn't out of character when our estimated time of departure from Manheim was 11:30am turned 12:15pm.  But, we did it.  Shoved ourselves into Pierre's car and rolled out of town. The whole entourage; Pierre, Heidi, Nikki G and me. 

It was just shy of a three hour drive and by the time we got to Newark International Airport, food was the only thing on our minds.  Standing between our frustrated bellys and Chilis Too (Yes, "Chili's Too", like an accomplice to the normal Chili's, except they don't accept gift cards or offer ribs.) was baggage check.  You see, I can handle the foreign language or strange, new places, but baggage check is probably the most frustrating.  One too many checked bags, one overweight checked bag and an overweight carry-on.  How to solve the problem?  Pay for additional bag. Check. Take enough out clothes/sketchbooks out of carry-on to please baggage check man.  Check. Proceed to layer additional clothing taken out of carry-on, onto body.  Check. Voila! Problem avoided.

Once the baggage check problems were averted, we grabbed a table at Chili's Too.  Besides scarfing down burgers and chips, the most exciting thing that happened was Heidi being served sparkling water, even though she asked for normal water.  Like the rest of us, but it was fixed and we had a happy diva once again.

We finished eating and headed towards security.  When the goodbyes began and the tears began to flow.  I don't know if I was really pushing it out of my mind, but it didn't hit me that I wouldn't see any of the people I love the most for four months.  Wow.  Security didn't seem as strict as I remembered and I made my way to Gate B55 with an hour to spare before boarding for my connecting flight in Portugal. 

It's a very strange feeling to be surrounded by so many people and not understand a single word being spoken.  Perhaps, it was even stranger because I was still sitting in an American airport.  Not what I expected from flying in my past.  And the airport fashion in the International terminal is not typical of the American travelling dress (sweats and uggs), rather women rocking leather-heeled boots, men in black skinny jeans, and they somehow managed perfectly styled hair.

[rock the airport: style and comfortability]

I chose to break from the rest of the majority of the otehr LVC students heading to Perugia and sacrifice a non-stop flight to Rome for a cheaper flight connecting in Portugal.  I had flown with connecting flights before; I could handle it.  It did not dawn on me until about two weeks ago that I would be changing flights in a foreign country and language.  I had no smart phone to depend on, just a few portugues words jotted down.  The important ones: Where? and Bathroom.

*UPDATE: Portugal's Airport has english translations under everything.  It's great. No need for jotted down translations.



This is getting crazy long, so I'm going to fast forward a little to the important things.  We landed in Portugal safely, despite a wild amount of fog.  (So bad, I didn't realize we were on the landing strip.  I thought we were still in the sky.)

Flight to Rome was delayed a half hour, but it just arrived! Time to board and continue the adventure!

Ciao!

*By the way, I promise to keep the next post shorter, sweeter and aesthetically pleasing (aka more photos).