Howdy! It’s been less lazy and more crazy lately, truth be told. June flew by, and here we are in the thick of summer, praising God for a “cold front” this week with highs in the mid 80s. 🙂 I’ll take it. Cloudy weather is my fave.
Husband and I returned July 3rd from a trip we had been planning for and praying about since last fall. We went to Italy, and it was everything that you might expect. It was amazing. I’ll talk about our trip over the next few posts.
I don’t think we would have made the decision to go to Italy just on our own. We would have had too many justifications for not going. BUT, the reason we decided to take this epic trip was the best reason of all…LOVE. Specifically, one of my best friends from college lived in Italy for more than two years, she met a wonderful man from Sicily, and they fell in love. When they decided to get married in Sicily, we knew we wanted to be there.
We got to spend some time with the happy couple and get to know Dario a bit when they visited Texas before getting engaged.
I asked Andrea to be a bridesmaid in my wedding in 2011, and she bestowed the same honor on me.
So we planned and prepared for many months. My ambitious husband even started learning Italian, much to my chagrin. (No, Honey! If you learn a third language, then I have to get another degree.) I might have an inferiority complex. 🙂
Anyway…our journey started with three flights. Texas==>London==>Rome==>Sicily. The trip went very smoothly, overall. The first long flight was rough for me for the last two hours or so. I’m convinced that I have undiagnosed restless leg syndrome. I could not get comfortable. Then, in London, the only real almost-mishap happened. We thought we had about an hour, so Bryan got in line at a sandwich shop while I went to the restroom. When I emerged, I heard them over the loudspeaker doing a LAST CALL for our gate. What?! I panicked for about three seconds and decided to run to my husband (the opposite direction of the gate). When I got there he was still waiting in line. I breathlessly conveyed to him that our flight was boarding, and they were about the close the gate. “I’m going to tell them to stop the plane! You come as fast as you can!” I believe those were my exact words. Please keep in mind that this is after an overnight flight with no sleep.
I grabbed a coffee from him and started running. Bad combination. I’m not one to enjoy being stared at (particularly in a negative situation), but there was no way I was letting us miss that plane to Rome. Latte splashing, purse flopping, I jogged through the terminal and arrived in front of two slightly amused women working at the gate. I explained as they looked at me with sympathy. They wanted to know if my husband was running, too. Minutes passed. They called him over the intercom. I smiled nervously. It seemed inevitable that they would give up and send me on my way at any moment, and then Bryan sauntered around the corner with our sandwiches. I beckoned to him to run as the ladies reached for my boarding pass. I was picturing a full flight with every person glaring us down as we made our way to our seats at the back. Strangely enough, once we made it into the tunnel, we found ourselves in line. There were at least 15 or 20 people ahead of us not quite on the plane yet. No one even knew that we were late. We sat down with our hearts still pounding, so relieved. A few minutes later a cart came by with–you guessed it–sandwiches. We just looked at each other and laughed. And so began our Italian adventure…