Coming Home

Before leaving Strasbourg, I walked to a bakery on the next street over form Grand ‘Rue and bought a baguette garnished with salami, and lettuce. It was simply marvelous! At 11:30 my landlord, Francoise, came down to look at the apartment and I had to show her the cracked toilet seat which has taken to pinching my leg painfully leaving behind a row of partially healed scabs. I offered to pay for a replacement as I may have dropped the seat, damaging it, while I was cleaning. I just don’t know. Francoise declined my offer and wished me well on my way.

I loaded my heavy carry on on my back like a pack mule, grasped my steamer truck in one hand and my backpack/purse in the other, and headed off the “Grand Isle” toward the train station. Tiny drops of rain began to pitter pat on the pavement as I reached the bus stop near the train station. Fortunately I had to wait only about five minutes before the bright yellow Lufthansa bus arrived and the driver kindly opened the luggage compartment and helped me stow the truck beneath the bus. I chose a prime seat…in vicinity of the bathroom, of course. I dozed fitfully, waking several times to find my mouth hanging open unattractively. I hope I didn’t disturb the other passengers with my snoring. The drive to Frankfurt was beautiful with the trees wearing their autumn coats in shades of yellow, orange, and red. A landscape painted by the hand of a Master.

It was quick work to check in, get my boarding pass, clear security, and locate my gate. The flight was pleasant and uneventful and I was happy to discover that my seat belt now closed easily and I could tighten my belt about 1 ½ inches. A far cry from the painful squeezing I received on arrival in April! My suitcase arrived without incident and I was off on my way to the bus stop. A review of the bus timetable revealed that I just missed the bus and the next was not scheduled for 50 minutes. Two other ladies found themselves in the same situation so we decided to spend a bit more and share a taxi to the Florence train station, Santa Maria Nouvella. I used the automatic ticket dispenser to buy a train ticket to Camucia, the city at the foot of the hill on which Cortona rests. I also called Maria to give her my estimate time of arrival, but had to leave a message. Entering the last car on the Chiusi train, I found a seat and stowed my gear next to me for the 1 hour 45 minute trip. A smiling half moon followed me from Firenze to Camucia and I knew the Universe was smiling on me when the train door opened easily and I dragged my luggage off to find Maria waiting on the platform.

We chattered away, catching up on all the news, during the short drive up the hill. Maria has let her hair return to its normal wavy style and it’s so flattering on her! She shared a bowl of delicious homemade vegetable soup as I hadn’t eaten in hours and then I took a quick walk around town to make sure everything was the same (as Terri later commented rather drily, “Cortona hasn’t changed in 3000 years.”) before curling up in my familiar bed. I am home.