Trials and treasures of travel

Editor's Note: Second year Cottey College students are visiting Rome and Florence, Italy as part of an annual cultural experience for students. While in Italy, students will learn of different cultures, and will participate in a variety of educational modules as well. Meanwhile, Cottey Public Information Officer Steve Reed is sharing his experience with readers through letters back home. This is the first of his letters.

Buon giorno, Mama! (Good day, Mom!)

We all made it to Italy -- finally. My group had a bit of a setback (and we hope it's the only one). We boarded our plane at JFK, ready for the long flight across the ocean when the pilot told us that our plane had been taken out of service for maintenance. We all had to deboard and they had to unload our luggage and find us another plane. By the time we were actually in the air, we were already three hours behind schedule. Still, we made it and made it safely and that's what counts most.

Patrick was our guide who met us at the airport. He's been with most of the Cottey trips and recognized me from past years. It was nice to see a friendly, familiar face after all those hours of travel. We made quick trips to the ATM to have lunch money for later and boarded our bus for the three-hour drive to Florence.

After about an hour, Bruno, our bus driver, pulled off of the highway at a small eatery for lunch. It was called Auto Grill, and they have them all along the highways in Italy. It reminded me of those car trips we took when I was a child and we stopped at the Stuckey's and Nickerson Farms restaurants along the road. However, this is Italy, and the food is, of course, much better. I had a plate with two different kids of pasta and some risotto with porcini mushrooms. Not the kind of thing you find at your typical truck stop. It was an outstanding meal and my stomach was very happy when we boarded the bus for the last two hours of our drive.

I suppose I could have settled for a sandwich, but why? I know you've also read the book, "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. She spent four months in Italy indulging her senses in everything that Italy has to offer. I feel it is my obligation to do the same. Bring on the pasta and don't skimp on the sauce! So, here we were back on the bus after traveling for hours, sitting with full bellies and driving through a pouring rain. You can imagine what happened next. I was up front visiting with Patrick when he pointed toward the back of the bus. I turned and saw every student snoozing contentedly under the Tuscan rain.

I understand how tired they were, Mama, heck, I was dragging, too. But the sleepers missed some magnificent scenery: old Etruscan villages on hilltops, the changing flora and fauna. Near Rome we saw many parasol pines, but as we entered Tuscany, the trees became predominantly tall thin cypresses standing like green spires along the highway. Throw in the vineyards and the olive trees and it looked like a Van Gogh painting. Definitely worth staying awake to see.

We checked into the hotel and met Patrick for our walking tour of the city. Usually, these tours include instruction for navigating the local metro, or subway, system. Florence, however, does not have one. We will be doing lots of walking during our three days in Firenze (what the Italians call Florence). Still, all the historic sites seem to be close enough it shouldn't be much of an inconvenience, but we will get in our workouts.

That evening we saw Santa Croce, the Pallazzo Vecchio, the Ponte Vecchio, the Duomo, the Baptistry, and the Uffizi. I'll write more about some of these in my coming letters. After showing us how to find these landmarks, Patrick turned us loose on the city.

Six of us, including Michael Richardson, went to find a place to eat. I mention Michael specifically, because you haven't dined out until you've dined with a chef. Michael could tell us what was in every dish and how it was prepared. He took the liberty of ordering appetizers for us. We had the flat unsalted bread that you dip or coat in olive oil and then dress with either salami, prosciutto (ham) or tomatoes. Or you could do like me and put everything on your bread. The salami was some of the best I have ever eaten, and I probably should have saved some more room for my main course. For my main dish I had tortellini with prosciutto and cream. Outstanding. Angela Firkus had gnocci (a type of potato dumpling) with pesto, and she let me sample some. It was also excellent. I was so full from the appetizers, though, I couldn't eat all of my tortellini. I did, however, finish the rest of my red wine. It was as good as you would expect as well.

After such a filling meal, the last thing I wanted to do was get up and make the two-mile walk back to the hotel, but sleeping in the street near the Mercado Centrale (Central Market) held less appeal, so off we went. I spotted the dome of the Duomo and indicated the direction we should go (as none of us paid close attention to the streets we took to get there). Some of the group were teasing me about leading them astray, but I knew which direction the river was and our hotel was just off of the Arno River. I kept telling them we were on the right track, but few believed me until we were closer to the hotel and they began to recognize a few landmarks from earlier in the day. Ha! Probably wasn't polite to say "I told you so" but I told them so.

I was going to stay up and write a bit, even at 10 p.m., and turned on CNN to help keep me awake while doing so. I kicked off my shoes and stretched out on the bed with pen in hand, prepared to write you a full detail of the day's adventures.

When I awoke an hour later, I turned off the tv and decided that I could give you a full account in the morning. Sleep came easily after too much travel and two big pasta meals.

Today we are off on our module to Santa Croce, and then I think I'll go back to the Mercado Centrale to shop for some fruit, bread and cheese to pack along for snacks. Much to see and do and only two more days in Firenze. I'd best get moving!

Alla prossima (until next time),

Your loving son,

Steve