A 37 day imaginary travelogue of a trip to Rome (with a few scattered other places such as New York). This is written to match the journey I am actually taking, and so each post is concurrent with the more or less actual day my wife and I are experiencing in Rome.
What day number are we on?:Three
Level of writer's drunkenness (in real life, scale of 1-10): One? I should get another drink, but this is all going so slowly I fear topping out too early!
What am I eating (in real life again)?: Still nothing
Map or picture?:
Any other notes/Status: God no.
We made it to Europe. However our flight was diverted to Barcelona! I would have been content with that if Messi, the greatest athlete in the world, consented to drop by the airport and say "Hi." I also would have been content if we could have left the airport, or if it turned out Gaudi had done a load of wonderful work on their airport. Oddly he didn't. He squandered his time on residences, parks, and Cathedrals. I learned in the Barcelona Airport that after about 100 years the Church of the Sagraada Familia (or whatever it is called, I have no Internet) is almost done! Exciting! And to think that for a couple hours I was within 40 Kilometers of it!
In case you wondered we weren't diverted to Barcelona because we almost died. There was a fuel problem. Actually, maybe we did almost die! Now we are in Milan. We were supposed to get to Rome today, but we have been unable to find a way.
I am so tired.
No, seriously, people have the audacity to talk about being tired all the time. I do too. But the real tired is something we have all experienced. Reflect on it now with me, that torture, that incredible longing for a bed that you are not in a position to honor. Ah god.
And so we are in Milan, but I don't care. And I don't know what's going to happen. We are on a train. And what a great trip this is.