In Case You Didn't Know, There Are Actually TWO Leaning Towers

My phone alarm buzzed at 5:00 AM. Time to get ready. Beverley and I were in a stupor from our 5 and 3 hours, respectively, of sleep. But that couldn’t stop our excitement of going to Pisa. We head out the doors around 5:50, to go grab some breakfast at a bar Bev frequents before Italian lessons in the morning. As we walked along the street the vendors for the Saturday morning market were beginning to arrive, setting up their goods for the day ahead. No one else was out. It was very strange. Then again, I don’t know how many people are willing to catch a 7:00 AM bus to Pisa; especially if you live here and have a car.

But we are foreign. And we have no car. 7:00 AM bus, it is!

We arrive at the bar, and I think the man at the register was surprised to see us. He asked if we had been out dancing. No, just catching a bus to Pisa. He serves us our tea and wishes us a safe trip. We arrived a little later than our stated time of 6:00, so I was worried that Davide was going to be waiting on us. He, however, didn’t show up until 6:20ish. He went to be at 2:45, he said. Wow…he is certainly dedicated to come this early!

We headed out around 6:40 to grab Davide a ticket. After he bought it from the travel agency, we walked over to the bus stop where people usually catch rides to Rome. Beverley jumps up and down trying to see across the Piazza Garibaldi, above the wall of construction work in the center of the piazza. There were a couple of buses. I didn’t think buses ever picked up by the travel agency. Then again, I was never up and about at 7:00 in the morning to find out.

We decide to walk back across the piazza, and I nearly lose my ticket. It somehow fell out of my bag on the ground. Thank goodness Bev realized before I had even taken two steps. We make it over to the buses. They were in fact going to Florence, our destination. Thank goodness we walked back over here!

The ride was pretty uneventful, besides me almost losing my ticket again. It had fallen between my feet somehow. I honestly think it had a mind of it’s own and was trying to escape. The 3 of us sat in the very back of the bus, because it was the only row that had enough seats across for all of us. On the way to our first bus change, we talked about random vocabulary words and made up silly ways of remembering them. We taught Davide the difference between “fun” and “funny.” Beverley and I did most of the talking. I think Davide was too sleepy to do much contributing.

We stop at a rest stop off the highway, and kill some time by looking at the food and taking pictures. An elderly gentleman was coming down a set of concrete stairs to where the buses were parked when he lost his balance and fell off the side. These stairs didn’t have a railing, because they were only 4 steps high and meant to get people from the pavement up the 2 feet to the sidewalk. Ambler travelers, like ourselves, chose just to step up the 2 feet without messing with stairs.

Regardless of how few stairs there were, it was a long fall. It was one of those horrible moments the you saw happen in slow motion but couldn’t move fast enough. I didn’t know what to do once he hit the ground. I can’t speak to him in Italian, and I was simply to shocked to conjure up my limited vocabulary. One of the bus drivers comes over to see if he is okay, and Beverley tells the elderly gentleman, “Aspeta! Aspeta!” (Wait! Wait!), as he tried to pull himself up. His head was bleeding, and his hand was scratched. The bus driver tried to have him go to the bathroom to clean up, but the man refused.

I really hoped he was okay, but there wasn’t much we could do.

After we were sure that he could at least walk, we loaded our bus to Florence. We tried to sit in the back again, but the ticket man exclaims, “Regazzi! Regazzi! Qua, per favore.” (You guys! You guys! Here, please.) pointing to seats closer to the front of the bus. I guess he didn’t want any one sitting past a certain point? Davide will have to sit alone, I guess. We take our seats, and Beverley and I throw our backpacks into two seats across the aisle. I hope ticket-man doesn’t get upset; I highly doubt that anyone will be boarding after this point. He walked by checking tickets and counting heads. “He runs a tight ship,” Bev whispers to me. Well, he didn’t say anything about backpacks. So he’s still on my good side.

The bus ride there was pretty uneventful. The most exciting thing was my impression of Igor at one of the stops along the way. Davide fell asleep for most of the ride, and Beverley and I managed to find something to talk about for the 5-hour ride. But we are girls; talking comes naturally.

We finally arrived in Florence, and what is the first thing we do? Hit up the MacDonald’s.

I had a McFlurry and fries. It was delicious. The place was 2 stories, and absolutely packed. We finally found a small table, without chairs. No big deal, we’ll just stand. We’ve been sitting on a bus for hours, anyways.

The next thing to do was to get a train ticket to Pisa. We walked down to a larger piazza, determined to find the station for ourselves. We turn around and Beverley says, “Is that it? I see trains!” The station was directly across from where our bus just parked.

Well, they certainly make this easy, don’t they?

Beverley buys some sunglasses at the market, with my professional assistance. She told me before that sunglasses just don’t look right on her face; I told her that was impossible and that we would find the perfect pair. She bought some and was going to wear them. I made fun of her because it was overcast outside, and turned to Davide. He had is aviators on.

“They are cloud glasses!” he said. I told him I didn’t believe in cloud glasses.

We bought tickets to Pisa, and for some reason I thought the tickets were meant for 30 minutes before the actual time. Of course our train would be picking up at the farthest point of the station. We rush over to the terminal, only to wait. And wait. Beverley points out the ACTUAL time of arrival, so we go back to the main hub of the station and buy chocolate.

Our train finally arrives, and we board to Pisa! On the way there, these high school kids came into our car and hid in the bathroom. The unusually tall Italian conductor/ticket-checking man comes into our car and stands outside the tiny bathrooms. He says something in Italian, trying to get the troublemakers to come out. He wasn’t letting them ride for free. One by one the 6 kids leave the train…I was simply amazed by how they managed to fit ALL of them in those claustrophobic stalls.

Good try kids. But you aren’t getting away with that one.

Then entire train ride there, Davide is texting his friend who lives in Pisa and planning to meet up with her. It will be nice to have our own personal tour guide of sorts! We make it to Pisa, exhausted from our long ride and needing to freshen up. We arrive at what we thing is our stop. Then in a moment of panic think it’s not our stop, and hop quickly on the train. Davide asks a rider if this is our correct stop. She says it is, and in another moment of panic we hop off the train before it closes its doors and move on.

All this hopping on and off and on and off happened in a matter of 2 minutes. We move fast.

We walk underneath the station to get to Pisa. The next thing I know a girl in a long black coat with dyed red-orange hair comes flying by, says “Hello” to me and Beverley, and literally attacks Davide in a hug. That must be his friend.

Davide introduced us to her. Her name was Chiara, and she was a little silly and different, but incredibly sweet and fun to be around. She took us to our hotel, where I had made a reservation online. We spent 10 minutes trying to find my reservation on her list. Not there. Maybe they spelled my name wrong? Whatever was closest to my last name wasn’t for a double bed though.

I was stressing out. Beverley told me everything would be okay, and we ended up getting a room with two double beds so Davide wouldn’t have to pay for a room all by himself. I would check if they had charged my credit card online once the boss got in for the night. For now, we had a room. That’s all that mattered.

We put up our things, and relaxed for about 5 minutes. Then, Davide arranged with Chiara to take us around. She showed us the river that separates North and South Pisa, told us some interesting things about the local architecture, showed us the building that Galileo Galilei was born in, explained that Davide should do all the ordering because shopowners charge more for coffee, etc. to obvious tourists, pointed out that best gelato shop in town and a good sandwich place, and finally took us to the Field of Miracles.

It was incredible.

I was bound and determined to climb the Leaning Tower, so we go get tickets and (to our surprise) are allowed to go straight up. Chiara says to call her and we can do something for dinner, and leaves us to our Tower climb.

Davide takes off like a little kid on Christmas.

I guess he never HAS been here before, so his excitement is just like ours. We quickly ascend the Tower (also because we didn’t have too much time before it shut down for the night). The steps never seemed to end. We got to one opening, and thinking we were at the top rested for the view. “Keep going,” one of the security people said. Oh, more stairs. Okay.

We kept climbing.

We got to another opening where 3 bells line the Tower. This must be the top. We were told to keep walking, and then directed to a tiny flight of stairs about 2 feet wide. Just wide enough for my hips to pass through.

We kept climbing.

We FINALLY get to the top, and I take a few pictures before my battery dies. Just my luck. I try my second battery, forgetting if it was charged or not. It wasn’t. I managed to trick my camera and get a few more shots. But it finally died for good.

The view was magnificent. We asked a guy in Italian to take a picture of us. He answered in English. “Oh! You speak English!” I said. “Yeah!” he said, laughing. Beverley and I walked around the Tower balancing against the lean as we moved from side to side. Davide stood hunched over clinging to the bar in the middle of the Tower, away from the edge. “Are you okay?” Beverley asks. “I’m scared!” he said. What? This guy who had fearlessly RAN up the 294 stairs was now scared? We thought he was joking at first, and pretended to throw ourselves over the edge. “Noooo!” he exclaimed. He was really scared. Oh goodness.

It was time to go down anyways. Fighting the lean of the Tower was more difficult going down the stairs than up it. The Tower had 3 different architects, each trying to correct the tilt and adding his own artistic flair. You could even see when architects changed by paying close attention to the window style and you move up (or down) the circling steps.

We get to the bottom, a little dizzy, and decide to walk around the other building. Outside the Bapistry is a large field…which I deemed Make-Out Central, due to the countless number of couples enjoying each other’s company on the soft green grass.

Too bad I didn’t have some beautiful Italian boy to make out with. Oh well, life moves on.

And so did we. We unanimously agree that a nap would be fantastic before dinner, and rest up in the hotel, my feet absolutely killing me. I thought a pair of flat boots would be great for trekking across Italy. I was wrong. Never. Again. Tennis shoes all the way.

Or my TOMS. I may have to try those out in Florence.

During our rest, Beverley decides to grown down a couple of years and starts jumping on the bed. We take pictures, and Davide becomes amazed by the picture I caught of him jumping up like Spiderman. After getting our 5-year-old impulses out of us, we head out to meet Chiara for dinner.

We walk around for what seemed like ages trying to find a place to eat. The original restaurant Chiara wanted to take us to was full, so she had to think of another place. After 30 minutes of walking around. I was getting irked, because when I’m hungry, my temper shortens. And I was starving, meaning my nice demeanor wasn’t going to last if we didn’t find a spot to eat. And quickly. We settled on a homey little place that served great home-cookin’, and Chiara said she wouldn’t eating with us. Her parents were in town, so she would be eating with them. They also lived in Teramo and offered to drive us back so we wouldn’t have to pay for a train and an expensive bus ticket. How sweet of them!

After dinner we went back to the Field of Miracles to see the Tower at night. It was beautiful all lit up. On the walk back we teach Davide the difference between certain words in English. In Italian, the letter “I” is always pronounced like the “ee” in “sheep.” So, they often pronounce English words the same, prouncing “rip” like “reap” for example. So Davide wanted to know the difference between “beach” and “b****” and “sheet” and “s***,” because to him the 2 words in the pair sounded the same. We enlightened him and tried to demonstrate the short “I” sound. His misunderstanding definitely made for some good jokes on the walk back.

We stop by a bar to grab some tea before heading back. When we at last made it to our hotel room, Davide and I decide to shower. He complained that his was the worst shower he had ever taken. I didn’t think mine was too bad, except that I couldn’t get my water to heat up for a long time. I was bit by bit adjusting the tap, talking to Beverley the entire time. I said something about not wanting to burn my “rump” and she starts cracking up. Apparently she thought the word “rump” was funny.

We all crawl into bed after I brush my teeth and say our goodnights. We have a long trip tomorrow. Okay, Bev, hit the lights.

Goodnight, Pisa.