then stuffed my suitcase inside, climbing in after. The second I shut the door, the driver pulled away from the curb and shot into traffic.
Outside I watched Naples pass by in a blur as the taxi weaved around the road. Scooters and smart cars whizzed by, cutting other motorists off without a second thought. There were so many people. I’d lived in St. Louis my whole life, thinking it was a big city. I was so wrong.
My eyes stayed glued to the window, marveling at the driver’s ability to navigate the congested streets with relative ease. Only when my phone rang did I pull my eyes from the chaos outside.
Mom’s picture filled the screen, her name printed at the top. Dad had added an international calling plan to my cell phone package, so I had no qualms about accepting Mom’s call. He’d made it quite clear that this trip was on his dime. I pressed ACCEPT . “Hi, Mom!”
“Soph! Did you make it? Where are you?” she asked enthusiastically, but mixed with a hint of worry.
“I did. I’m in a taxi now, on my way to the hotel. You should see this place, Mom. It’s crazy.”
Mom laughed brightly. “I have seen it, Patatina . Crazy, huh?”
“You can say that again,” I said.
“Have a good time, Soph, and be careful. Lots of pickpockets.”
“Thanks, Mom. I will.”
The taxi pulled onto a narrow street, and the driver threw the car into park in front of a yellow-sided building. HOTEL SUITE ESEDRA was spelled out in big gray letters.
“Mom, I’ve got to go. I’m at the hotel.”
“Okay. Be safe. Love you, Soph.”
“Love you, too. Bye.” I shouldered the phone and rooted around in my purse for my wallet.
“Talk to you soon,” Mom said, and then the line went quiet. I dropped the phone into my purse and pulled out some money.
Handing the euros to the driver, I threw the strap of my bag across my body and grabbed my suitcase, tossing the door open. “Thank you,” I said, climbing out of the cab.
I freed my luggage and closed the door just as the driver sped off.
Whoa! My hair fluttered in its wake. This place is unreal.
I shrugged off the impatient cabby and wheeled my belongings into the hotel, feeling proud of myself. I could mark one thing off my bucket list: hail a taxi. Check.
I got checked in and found my room, ready to collapse into bed. After traveling for almost a day, I didn’t have anything left. Italy wasn’t going anywhere, and I knew I’d enjoy it more after a long night’s rest.
* * *
Tourists crowded the ancient streets of Pompeii, but it didn’t detract from the awe and majesty the ruins inspired. The undulating stones that made up the main street weren’t easy to navigate, but it didn’t matter; Pompeii was breathtaking. The highlight of my Italian getaway for sure, even though I’d only begun my excursion.
I lifted the flap of my messenger bag and stored my bottle of water, then pulled out one of the many guidebooks I’d acquired before my trip. Even though Mom wouldn’t let me plan my trip down to the last detail, saying I needed to leave a little room for spontaneity, there was no way I’d planned to tour Italy blindly.
Stepping carefully across the chariot-rutted stones, I navigated the haunting streets. The crumbling stone walls still held echoes of the people who once inhabited the city. Even after almost two thousand years, their cries could still be heard, carried on the breeze that ruffled my hair.
A chill went down my spine as I trailed along the busy street on my way to the Forum. I decided to begin my visit with the architecture as opposed to the famous plaster casts. Despite how long ago all those people lived, I wasn’t ready to cry just yet. The immortalized dwellings alone held countless untold stories, even without the people frozen for all of time in their death throes.
As I navigated tourists, languages from every corner of the world touched my ears as people marveled and took in the town’s epicenter.
Standing in the middle of
Outside I watched Naples pass by in a blur as the taxi weaved around the road. Scooters and smart cars whizzed by, cutting other motorists off without a second thought. There were so many people. I’d lived in St. Louis my whole life, thinking it was a big city. I was so wrong.
My eyes stayed glued to the window, marveling at the driver’s ability to navigate the congested streets with relative ease. Only when my phone rang did I pull my eyes from the chaos outside.
Mom’s picture filled the screen, her name printed at the top. Dad had added an international calling plan to my cell phone package, so I had no qualms about accepting Mom’s call. He’d made it quite clear that this trip was on his dime. I pressed ACCEPT . “Hi, Mom!”
“Soph! Did you make it? Where are you?” she asked enthusiastically, but mixed with a hint of worry.
“I did. I’m in a taxi now, on my way to the hotel. You should see this place, Mom. It’s crazy.”
Mom laughed brightly. “I have seen it, Patatina . Crazy, huh?”
“You can say that again,” I said.
“Have a good time, Soph, and be careful. Lots of pickpockets.”
“Thanks, Mom. I will.”
The taxi pulled onto a narrow street, and the driver threw the car into park in front of a yellow-sided building. HOTEL SUITE ESEDRA was spelled out in big gray letters.
“Mom, I’ve got to go. I’m at the hotel.”
“Okay. Be safe. Love you, Soph.”
“Love you, too. Bye.” I shouldered the phone and rooted around in my purse for my wallet.
“Talk to you soon,” Mom said, and then the line went quiet. I dropped the phone into my purse and pulled out some money.
Handing the euros to the driver, I threw the strap of my bag across my body and grabbed my suitcase, tossing the door open. “Thank you,” I said, climbing out of the cab.
I freed my luggage and closed the door just as the driver sped off.
Whoa! My hair fluttered in its wake. This place is unreal.
I shrugged off the impatient cabby and wheeled my belongings into the hotel, feeling proud of myself. I could mark one thing off my bucket list: hail a taxi. Check.
I got checked in and found my room, ready to collapse into bed. After traveling for almost a day, I didn’t have anything left. Italy wasn’t going anywhere, and I knew I’d enjoy it more after a long night’s rest.
* * *
Tourists crowded the ancient streets of Pompeii, but it didn’t detract from the awe and majesty the ruins inspired. The undulating stones that made up the main street weren’t easy to navigate, but it didn’t matter; Pompeii was breathtaking. The highlight of my Italian getaway for sure, even though I’d only begun my excursion.
I lifted the flap of my messenger bag and stored my bottle of water, then pulled out one of the many guidebooks I’d acquired before my trip. Even though Mom wouldn’t let me plan my trip down to the last detail, saying I needed to leave a little room for spontaneity, there was no way I’d planned to tour Italy blindly.
Stepping carefully across the chariot-rutted stones, I navigated the haunting streets. The crumbling stone walls still held echoes of the people who once inhabited the city. Even after almost two thousand years, their cries could still be heard, carried on the breeze that ruffled my hair.
A chill went down my spine as I trailed along the busy street on my way to the Forum. I decided to begin my visit with the architecture as opposed to the famous plaster casts. Despite how long ago all those people lived, I wasn’t ready to cry just yet. The immortalized dwellings alone held countless untold stories, even without the people frozen for all of time in their death throes.
As I navigated tourists, languages from every corner of the world touched my ears as people marveled and took in the town’s epicenter.
Standing in the middle of
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