Okay, this is the final blog post about my Mediterranean adventure and after this I promise to go back to my geeky posts about odd crushes, cool vampires and how the world will end. You know, just normal stuff.
So far we had Barcelona, France and Rome - now it was time for a final taste of Italy before Cinderella turned back into an American pumpkin. I actually was a boring person this leg of the trip because I hadn't booked any excursions for Naples and all the Pompeii ones were taken. Oh well next time. Some of us were still exhausted from our "Heat index over 100" Rome trip so we opted for a nice air conditioned bus tour through Naples.
The tour was fine, a little on the boring side but we got to see some of the city and Naples was chock full of gorgeous Italian people, doing Italian things and living their best Italian lives. Also, they close their shops in the afternoon so that everyone gets some time off to relax and enjoy the day. Why do I live in America again?
Heck, even their graffiti was cool.
Before the tour ended we had a chance to stop at a charming café and have a gelato (although I opted for the wine) while looking over the city. And this view was totally worth it, although I DO want to go back and visit Pompeii.
My body had other ideas.
That morning I woke up with a horrible, terrible, awful cold. The Gods of Relaxation were smiting me severely. I quickly ran to the store on the ship and paid $21 for a $6 bottle of cough syrup but nothing worked. Rather than sitting in my room (which I should have done) or contaminate a pool whilst being miserable I decided to make myself sicker by not resting. I took in a show (an ice show so it was nice and freezing in there), spent $20 in the casino, walked countless hours around the ship and finished a book (and someday I'll have to tell you about me and my Vampire Hunter D "travel trash" novels). Then the word came that all 52 of us were getting together for a group photo. I don't remember much about it because I looked like hell, was buzzing on cough medicine and was ready to go to bed at 5pm but I seem to remember I looked a little like this:
The next day, I felt worse and once more, we had to get up early so we could be booted off the ship. They did this by rooms and guess whose had an early departure? Oh well. The rest of the trip home was a blur with various family members asking how I was feeling, except my brother who calmly stated "You look like shit." A fact of which I was well aware and did not need to be informed of. Thank you.
Despite a two-hour stay on the tarmac in Barcelona waiting for our plane to depart, we all made it to our connecting flight in New York - having to go through customs each way and finally home which was, of course, an hour's drive from the airport. The only thing I remember was bringing up the stuff I needed to go to sleep and face-planting into a pillow. Oh and if you've been on Mediterranean time for a week, it will take you a week to adjust back to your normal time. I realized this when I was going to bed at 9pm and waking up at 4am the next week. So that was the sad, sick exhausting end to my trip.
I wanna go back.