Last week I executed a bucket list of “lasts,” bidding a tearful farewell to my most beloved
Italian routines. Further complicating this dewy-eyed objection, I continued to unearth new aperitivo joints, Panini delis, shortcuts and shops – a wistful case of the shoulda, coulda, wouldas. Thursday night the group of students, RAs, teachers and directors gathered for a final dinner sendoff. It was a classic four-course affair accompanied by Chianti and nostalgic whimpers—what do you expect from a program of 15 females? The following morning, I trekked to Piazza Gramsci to catch my bus to Rome to my flight to Prague. Thanks to the pitted streets, a broken suitcase and a hulking packer’s pack, I clocked the 8-minute trot at 25-minutes. I made the bus, though, and was even able to admire the very same cobblestones I had just previously dammed.
Jaunting to Prague after kissing Siena goodbye was an exciting distraction. The city was a Christmas storybook, glistening with red, snow-capped roofs and hilly white backdrops (not to mention the bustling Christmas market). I believe I am now ready to welcome home with open arms. Tonight is my last night of my European adventure—I am in Fiumicino at an airport hotel. Fast forward an odyssean 24 hours and I imagine I’ll be pinching myself. Siena will feel like a dream: a beautiful and gourmet phantasmagoria—too good to be true…good news it was.