Just my suitcases and I

October 2016

Many ask me how I got to Italy and even more so to this small village in which I have decided to settle down. I have always loved Italy and have visited it many times. My last trip was to Tuscany where I fell in love with the area and imagined myself living here. You know, like in the movies; doing grocery shopping in the market, eating grapes right from the vines, walking down the paved streets, sounds like a dream, right?
When I announced to my family and friends that I was leaving and going to make my dreams come true in Italy, they all asked me how I was going to live in a foreign country, with no knowledge of the language, no friends, no family and in addition in a tiny village. My answer was that our world was built and developed by immigrants and that my situation is better than theirs because today there are social networks, cellphones and the ability to just get up and go back home if something doesn’t work out. 
So, I said my goodbyes and packed up my stuff. Now, this is where it gets a bit confusing.  It always seems so simple in the movies; she always takes a tiny suitcase, lots of faith and just takes off. In reality, it is much less comfortable. 
To try to fit a whole life into a suitcase, thinking how to avoid the overweight, and considering the fact that I am a slim and small girl was not simple at all. My mother of course tried to get me to give up on a few of my things, but for the life of me, I cannot live without all of my pairs of shoes. Besides, I told her I was going to Europe and not on an after the army trip, I need variety. This variety almost cost me my health. After packing it all (well almost all), I was on my way with two big suitcases, a backpack, a carry-on bag and a hand bag. What fun!
All the way, I was full of motivation and decided I was doing it and big time. I reached Italy and of course, it started to rain. For those of us who are not used to rainy countries, we do not have the basic understanding that rain can get us wet to the bone. So there I was with five suitcases, running around the Rome airport, in the Italian rain looking for the bus. For those of you who haven't been to Italy I will give you a small tip, when you ask for directions to the bus and they tell you to take a right, ask them to be a bit more specific. In the Rome airport, there are about 60 bus lines and they are all on the right!
So after I went up and down, me and my five suitcases, I finally found the bus to Siena. As I was waiting (about an hour) for the driver to depart, I realized that it was almost noon and I hadn't eaten in hours. I was soaking wet and in pain and my motivation began to crumble. It is important to mention that I was without a cellphone, didn't know the language and throughout the ride (that took three hours) I started to pick a fight with myself, afraid I had made a mistake and sure my next phone call to my mom would go like this, "come and pick me up".
I arrive in Siena, miss the bus, it is raining, I run with five suitcases to grab something to eat and miss the bus again. I take a different bus to the central station and at this point, I am sure I have made a mistake. 
At the central station, I wait for the bus, which is on the left side this time, and of course, it doesn't show up. I wait in the rain, wet and still alone with my five bags. Two hours have gone by and it still hasn't arrived. It is getting dark. At this point, I am thinking of taking a bus back to Rome but decide to take a taxi. I pray that he won't do anything to me. A forty-minute taxi ride. It is already evening. I've been on the road for 24 hours. I want to go home. 
The driver realizes that the B&B that I booked is 7 km away from the village and in the woods, sounds like the beginning of a horror movie. He decides to call them to make sure and tells me that maybe I shouldn't stay there since I have no car and won't be able to leave and go anywhere else. We start to look for an alternative. It is raining, I am wet, but at least I am no longer alone. The first place is fully booked but luckily, it is run by a sweet girl who calls another place for me. We get there, they have room, and my motivation starts to come back. The driver calls the B&B that I booked for 8 days to cancel, she yells at me and she wants 50 euro as a compensation. My motivation sinks again. It's only been a few hours and I have already pissed off an Italian, not a promising start. 
It is night, I am in my room at the B&B, looking at all my bags, alone, but know that it is only the beginning and from here, only good things can happen. 
Till the next time,

May you always be inspired
Sincerely yours,
Ziv Fetter