After a great night of rest I made my way to the school. Some quick directions from the hotel concierge who told me to take bus H saw me treking through the train station again with my absurdly heavy suitcase to a bus stop that was “Just around the corner.” Following the signs that said bus and a quick stop at an information center who pointed directly behind him to a bus stop clearly labeled H, sheepishly I walked over and got a ticket at a near by stand and got on.
As the bus drove off, I realized I didn’t know how to recognize where I was going or if I was really on the right line. I furtively got out my little guide book trying to locate any of the streets that were flying by on the map. Until I saw the street Garabaldi, that I recognized as the street I was supposed to live on, I quickly got off the bus (or as quickly as one can be with a huge suitcase and a travel backpack) and found, yes, another information plaza. With a tiny little ramp and little doors, I force my way awkwardly through to ask (in italian) where S. Appollonia was. The woman behind the desk gave me a confused appraising look and responded in English that if I walk down the street and take a right at some point before the Piazza Santa Maria I would find it.
My suitcase screamingly loud on the cobbled streets I made my way until one of the signs said S. Appollonia, and after walking back and forth around trying to figure out where 3 was I found hidden on of the buzzers right in front of me, the name Pratt. Finally. After sorting out saying hi to Pratt Italia people none of whose names I remember anymore the woman in charge walked me to the apartment where I will be staying. Arm in arm (she insisted) we walked, me hauling my suitcase in my free hand trying not to show the pain as she strode along lightly holding the umbrella. Feeling the blister forming as we walked I was grateful to finally stop in front, a woman coming out who I was terribly impolite to probably catching my breath and trying not to show it, hair disheveled, I manage a Buongiorno, maybe, at least I hope it came across. Just past the door, oh thank goodness a lift. I feared trying to carry that suitcase up the stairs. She unlocks the door for me and says that my neighbors are a lovely (and in a hushed voice gay) couple. Settled in, ie nothing unpacked just computer out playing some music. I need to get the wireless password it is there taunting me and then maybe some groceries.
I should probably also note that I have no idea what floor I am on. I will have to figure that out when I leave.
Up next: getting lost!