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I am a magazine, public relations, and sociology major at Drake University who is ALWAYS on the go...and I LOVE it!! This blog is a digital record of my evolving writing skills throughout college. To view my dating/relationship blog visit hsmason.wordpress.com.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Disaster in Italy


Three months ago I had the life-altering chance to work and live in Florence, Italy. While there I fell in love with the land, the people and the culture. However, that's not to say there is never a downside to traveling in a foreign country. The travel guides don't exactly highlight the less-than-glamourous side of travel which can include having to pay to use every public restroom, hostels that haven't changed the dirty sheets and "bathrooms" that are literally a hole in the ground. One trip in particular that I took with my friends was a series of unfortunate events from beginning to end. This is the story of Lido di Camiore...

I’m sure that Lido in and of itself is a cute town with a beautiful shoreline, but in my mind, Lido is hell.

After a beautiful day in Cinque Terre we (myself and five other interns) met up with the other 80 or so kids in our program to take the bus back to Lido di Camiore, where they had been having their two-week orientation while we had been in Florence. As we drove past all the towering mountains chock full of the marble that has created the art of Florence for centuries, we got more and more excited for our stay at the seaside. Truth be told we had been somewhat jealous of the other kids who got to spend their time between classes on the beach.


And then we arrived in Lido….
As the bus pulled to a stop my friend Maria woke up and asked, “Are we stopping to use the restroom?” Nope, our hotel was just on a strip of town with few shops, many crappy hotels and what looked like the type of bus stops where hookers like to hang out at night. And then we entered the hotel. While the other kids were for the most part in the actual hotel, the interns were segregated, as usual, in the back where the hotel owned apartments that some families actually rented. Our “apartment” for the night was sketchy at best. My friend Kelly had to sleep in a bed that was in the living room right next to our “lovely” balcony that looked out onto the fat, shirtless man sitting on his balcony.. that was directly next to ours..climbing distance. Maria’s room was next to ferocious dogs on the other too-close-for-comfort-porch. Our bathroom was one of the many in Europe that doesn’t actually have a shower, but instead just has a showerhead and a drain in the floor so that when you’re done the toilet, sink, and everything else is soaked. Andddd no air conditioning. Just lovely.
We devised a plan: try to forget where we were sleeping for the night. The plan would commence after dinner.

So we voyaged out to a cafeteria-style dinner. I have never seen so many people swarm around and empty a buffet table so quickly. Jess, who is a vegetarian, was served fried blocks of cheese as a meat substitute. This meal was far from our six-course Florentine dinners at Cafe Pitti. (Disclaimer: I'm not a food snob. I was the kid in high school that actually ate the hot lunch. It was better than this meal. Ponder that for a bit.)
After dinner the six of us went out to begin our plan. Step 1: buy champagne. One bottle per person.
We decided to drink in the hotel "garden" that we had heard so much about from our classmates. They had told us all about this beautiful garden where they all drank wine together and relaxed. This "garden" was chairs scattered in the front yard. I’m serious.
After our garden experience we went to a bar called Sergeant Pepper’s, and then tried to go to a huge party that was being held on the beach. For some reason though the bouncer would not let us in. We kept trying to ask why and his response was simply, "because". Bouncers in Italy often have ATTITUDES and really shouldn’t be messed with because they are all quite huge and scary. While our other friends went back to the hotel, Jess and I tried again, this time successfully, to go to the beach party. The music was good but it was so jam-packed that someone actually put their cigarette out on my arm. Once again, story of my life. The awful night was somewhat remedied when we stopped for some really delicious shrimp on the way home.

I ended the night sleeping in Jess’s bed, because by the time we got back another roommate had  fallen asleep in mine. Upon waking up the next morning, already past our checkout time, it was clear the mission had been a success, even though the night had not.

The next day was actually quite nice. We spent the whole day lying on the beach with the mountains rising up in the distance. The seaside was pretty, but many of the beaches are reserved for people who belong to private beach clubs. Along the boardwalk were artisans selling typical Italian goods: handmade straw hats, limoncello, turquoise jewelry, etc. It had a distinct Atlantic City kind of feel.
When it came time to take the bus home to Florence I think we were all relieved. And let me tell you, never before has a shower felt so good.

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