There's a particular breed of restlessness that settles into your bones when you're ready to go home, but your travel plans require patience. After a lazy waterfront coffee and a short wander, Wendy and I parted ways in Split as my flight to Milan left the next day.
Split, to all intents and purposes, is a lovely place to spend the last days of travel - but I was ready to be home. Having moved into a brand new apartment only three days before I left for my whirlwind summer, I was feeling the call to nest and explore my new neighbourhood. And especially, to see my cousin Stephanie who was dropping by to visit in the middle of her own (first) backpacking trip through Europe. Not having been blessed with sisters of my own, I've taken on cousins in that role: three amazing women who live in the American South and Stephanie, who was born a month before my fourteenth birthday, lived down the street from me for years and who I've been unspeakably fortunate to watch grow up into a friend. There was only going to be one night with her and her friend, and I was anxious to get home and get errands done to make every second count.
Split was not exactly a hotbed of excitement on a Sunday and Monday, but I did my best. I found a fantastic, quiet flat with a balcony in the rabbit's warren streets of the old town, and kept returning in the sporadic rain showers to read undercover and watch the neighbour's curious cat as it explored the garden below. I hiked up to the highest point in town and wandered through old chapels and side streets.
The adventures started with my flight home. After months of hopping budget airline flights, I've learned several things.
A) Buy your tickets early for best prices. As in, you can get from Berlin to Lithuania for 7 euros.
B) Pack light, or pay for your baggage when booking the ticket.
C) Never fly Ryanair unless you like being treated rudely or being consistently overcharged.
D) Easyjet is your best option, but is always, always late.
With all these in mind, I'd booked a flight that allowed an extra two hours to catch the train from Milan to Bra. I wasn't thrilled with the prospect of getting home at midnight, but it would be cheaper than a hotel in Milan. Well, surprise, surprise, Easyjet was late. Very late. I missed the connection to the last train home. All right then, off to my favourite Milan hotel with the good deals. Except, I'd never stayed there mid-week. Every hotel was fully booked around Milano Centrale, and the last room left at Hotel Garda Milano was an 80 euro a night twin. Ouch. Still, the sleep was a good one.
The next morning I hopped a train back to Bra, and arrived at my front gate right on time at 12:30. And then realized I couldn't remember the entire code. And my phone was inside the apartment. No matter, I eventually threw my backpack over the wrought iron fence, followed suit and got to my apartment door. Where my key got jammed and the door refused to open. For over two hours. My new neighbours were so incredibly lovely, calling a key technician and giving me water and a banana until help arrived. Which granted, was several hours as it was officially siesta until 3:30pm. In the end, I'm thankful that Easyjet was so predictably late - dealing with this at midnight would've resulted in me sleeping on the marble-tiled steps and doormat outside my apartment instead of a comfy warm bed.
The next day, I got back on the train and met Stephanie and her friend Cortney in Torino to bring them back to Bra. Having spent the previous night in a Paris train station, as you do when you're travelling around Europe for the first time, they were tired out. A day of laundry, relaxing, a bit of wandering and pizza at Cinema was the perfect antidote. Although not nearly long enough a visit, it was so wonderful to have that time with Steph - who continues to impress me with her adventurous spirit.
I saw them off early the next morning, thoroughly explored the fantastic Friday morning market in Bra and settled down to the serious business of nesting.
Home sweet home.
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