Supposed to take a Ryanair flight to Rome at 1pm today but it got delayed… by six hours! I was standing in the waiting room to board the flight when an annoucement was made in French. I didn’t have to ask much to know what it meant, judging by all the groaning, merdes and putains I heard from everyone around me. Everyone was ushered to the eating halls… which was already outside the airport and I wondered whether I should just call Clem to take me home for awhile since the wait was then said to be three to four hours. I made friends with a really nice Italian guy called Vincenzo, who offered to sms me when the plane is going to leave so I could go back to Clem’s. Supremely helpful of him, as Clem called the airport at least five times to get updates which noone could tell him cos they didn’t know themselves.

Around 6pm Vincenzo texted saying they were just told they were to board, so Clem and I jumped into the car (Clem jumped out again cos I forgot my jacket, typical of me. Earlier that day I forgot my hat and we went back to get it :p) and arrived in the airport in seven minutes flat. This time there was no crying fro me, since we already had a practice run of saying goodbye earlier that day.

Sometimes I wonder what I was thinking to plan a holiday that puts me apart from Clem for six weeks. I thought I could do it like I did before… but I found that it’s so much harder to say goodbye than it was two years ago when I did a similar summer trip. I definitely love him a lot more… and I felt like a real baby for a few days. Kinda regretting my planning. Yet knowing that I’m doing this for me and he’s awesome for not saying a single word against my desire to travel, makes it easier. I know I’m going to have a great time… but it’s also a terrible pain to be apart from him. Okay I have to stop writing this else I’m gonna cry in the dorm room.

So I found my hostel fairly easily, with the help of some friendly Italians who searched the road on their google maps for me and someone else even gave me a spare map they had. I had no choice but to walk from the train station to the hostel at 10:30pm THANKS to the flight delay. It’s not like I would have planned to do something like this alone in the middle of Rome. I try to be safe by walking near groups of people or couples, and most times they can probably guess I’m trying not to walk alone. My red hair has its pros and cons as I found out… most people are very friendly to me and a girl even came up to me just to tell me she loved my hair. A few dodgy guys try to talk to me outside the train station and hostel, so I just ignore them and put on my most gangster face possible i.e. scowl.

The hostel is cheap, 27 euros for a bed in a dorm for a night, seeing I’m going to take an early morning train to Naples tomorrow. It’s really well kept, modern and clean… but erm I can’t say I love being a backpacker :p A girl is talking on Skype in the bed next to me (so it’s kinda hard to concentrate on writing while she’s so loud blah) while a couple sleep below me. And the sheets kinda ick me out so I spread a cleaner sheet on top of it. Okay, I’m so not a backpacker. I’ll just call myself a cheap traveler. Next time I’m definitely taking a private room… Last time I stayed in a dorm room was in Singapore for The Ting Tings but it didn’t seem bad at all then.

Tomorrow will be a better day! No more flights, and I get to see Yishininininini!

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