Don’t Ever Help the Local Teens When You’re Traveling on a Foreign Bus

darbyholdingupthetower

Oh my.  I am seriously crying over here.  I was reminded yesterday that my sister, the MOST helpful woman you will ever meet, was inspired on our recent trip to Italy (#sisterchick style) to help the local teenage boys out…on the bus…at the top of her voice.

Here is how the story goes…

We were on the Pisa city bus just, very apparently, not making our way to the Leaning Tower…So there we were.  Hanging out.  Watching the city pass us by, while the locals hopped on and off.  Pushing stop buttons when wanting to exit and stamping tickets when boarding.

We knew we had to get back to the train station—so, you know, we had to basically ride the loop out.

This gave us OODLES of time to get really really really like super really bus savvy.  I mean, we were riding it for like an hour—so we did have it figured out.

Stop button meant people wanted off.  Tickets punched meant people would be riding.

The thing is…the bus was so busy that we were all scattered throughout.  From front to back—dragging our ridiculously heavy suitcases with us—carry-on luggage—and lots and lots of sweat from our over-stuffed train ride to get to Pisa from Florence (but that’s another story).

And in the midst of the bus chaos and complete separation we hear from somewhere in the middle a LOUD and TALL REDHEAD shouting in her best Italian #@$&%!

The bustling, overcrowded, LOUD bus comes to a complete moment of silence===and we, the traveling #sisterchicks, all look towards Darby (my sister) and stare.  Mouths open.

What did she just yell?????

Whatever it was, it brought Italy to a standstill.

No one…foreign or otherwise…knew what to do.

And then we hear her, “I am just trying to help stop the bus.”

All of us, however, came to the conclusion that whatever word the teenage boys were shouting on the bus was probably, very likely, absolutely without a doubt, we are sure of it…not the word STOP!

What word was it?

Well, considering it was teenage boys yelling it…let’s just say it was probably a very naughty word that my sister would most likely punish her own teenagers for saying 😉

Yes, here she was, in a foreign country, yelling it at the top of her lungs!

#$%!@##$#!

Needless to say—the bus did stop.

Talking that is.

Not in motion.

It kept rolling…

Much like our laughter to this day.

Oh, dear friends, wherever you go, if there are teenage boys shouting, keep this in mind…

Don’t repeat what they are saying…ESPECIALLY if it is in a foreign language.

And on a bus!

***

photo credit:  Laura Hocknell; photo caption:  Perspective;  photo subject:  DARBY the bus yeller!!!!!

 

#sisterchicks and what we learned traveling through Italy!

sisterchickstakevenice

“Prego, Madam!  What do you want?  Why do you knock on the door???  IT IS CLOSED!”

An angry Italian woman yelled at my sister as we peered through the only money exchange in site.

Rule number 1:

Italy takes naps…And don’t mess with them.

***

“Brooke, what are you looking at?  That man over there???”

“Yes!” I answered.  

Holy cow, ladies.  Italy is like the land of red carpet.  George Clooney has nothing on these cobble-stone walkers!

Needless to say, cameras come out—click, click, click!

Rule number two:

Be prepared for MANY Italian masterpieces—and not all of them are centuries old or made of marble.

***

“Brooke, is this the water taxi we take back?”  

I look at the scrolling monitor, the platform, the time—and, being the European live-r, answer with confidence, “YES!  It is.  Run!”

We jump on the rocking water taxi in just enough time to be shoved, trampled, and smothered before the chain goes on and the boat pushes off…Our day in Venice is over, and all we have to do now is find the RIGHT bus off of the island and back to our hotel.

What should have been a 15 minute boat ride, however, later turned into a full-circle 1-hour water taxi ride where I REFUSED to ask for directions, because, you know, I KNOW how to live in Europe.

When we came to our original take-off platform, I swallowed my very big pride and asked the woman manning the boat if and when we would get off on our platform—

She chuckled, told us to jump off, and run to the next platform…

Where we then had no money nor tickets, ducked under the railing and hoped beyond measure that the next boat would take us home.

Well—relatively home since we still had a bus and walk in front of us.

It did—and we even ended the night with homemade spaghetti to boot.

Not bad for my ego, eh?

Rule number 3:

Don’t EVER go with Brooke when it comes to directions

***

I need to sanitize my entire body!

My sister-in-law proclaimed after our lively, full, smell-ful bus ride to the Leaning Tower of Pisa, where I—ONCE AGAIN—put us on the wrong public transportation.  A one-hour tour around the extremely lovely city of Pisa with a girlfriend nearby manning the GPS saying, “Wait, we should be at the Leaning Tower in 7 minutes…” The bus proceeds to turn left…”No, wait…now 11 minutes!”  The bus turns right “No, now 15 minutes…”

Yes.  We took a loop bus around the city and didn’t see a scant drop of the Leaning Tower until we arrived BACK at the train station and decided to take a taxi from there.

Which took approximately 4 minutes to the Leaning Tower and only cost $12 Euro for 6 of us.

BUT…we did get to see the otherwise lovely city of PISA—trampled by bus-goers and smothered by no ventilation and holding on for dear, careening life as the bus driver drove like a cowboy.

leaningtower

Rule number 4:

Remember Rule #3!

***

Should we go see the original Masterpiece David or are we okay with the copy????  We all kind-of wondered…

But, HEY…In Florence, so close to a Michelangelo Masterpiece, we decided we better put on our walking shoes and try to make a way…

BEST DECISION EVER!

And, along the way, we got distracted by lovely shopping, open marketplaces, amazing architecture, and couple Dutch college kids that proceeded to point us in the WAY WRONG direction to the David.  Thankfully, we asked a few other joggers for a second opinion…

Where we made it.

I was in awe.

From his feet to his piercing eyes—Michelangelo’s David was probably one of the most magnificent man-made creations I have ever seen.  And I have lived in Europe a long time, have seen beautiful cathedrals and divine paintings.  I have even dined next to original Monet’s …

Upon leaving the university which houses the David, I bought my parents an awesome Florence reconstructed book and what I thought was the most decent (not showing all body parts of David) bookmark…

Upon my sister returning home and giving my parents the gifts, her 11-year-old son flips the bookmark over where David is fully revealed and proclaims, “WELL!  That is highly inappropriate!”

Hahahahahaha!

Gotta love kids!

Which brings me to my final rule of this #sisterchicksposting…

Rule number 5:

See the David…even in all his glory!  It’s a must.  From the gentle way that David is holding the stone in his right hand, to the way the sling is draped over his back…

From the way his feet lead to his legs and the muscles of youthful strength are perfectly carved …

To the way that his eyes are glancing to the left…

To know that a young 26-year-old man carved this masterpiece out of ONE piece of marble…centuries ago in the days when today’s technology did not exist.

SEE THE DAVID!

hiseyes

And, spend way more time in Florence than we did.  It is worth every single drop of your time and days!

***

Well, we #sisterchicks finished our trip strong (the luggage at the cheap airport I’ll address another day)…

And we had a blast.

I can’t wait until these #sisterchicks abandon their husbands and children again where we will then head to ROME!

OR THE WORLD!

Because traveling with #sisterchicks is well worth every drop of time and energy.

Just remember to never follow my directions!