Bloop I’m actually dying because I got approximately two hours of sleep last night on the bus; I’m writing this to stay awake at McDonald’s. We can’t check into our room for another hour, and we’ve been wandering around in the freezing cold and stopping into places to warm up. Should’ve started at McDonald’s because nobody cares how long you sit here.
The overnight bus was not one of the most pleasant experiences, to say the least. We got to the bus station nice and early to make sure we could find everything okay and not have a repeat of that one time that we actually missed our bus. We were both a little tipsy off of the box wine we got for a euro and a half, which was really good, because it was cold outside and there were no signs at the bus stop and our bus was late. Whatever.
So we separated to get the best possible seats – Kiwi guy took our two big bags to put under the bus, I took our two little bags and shoved my way to the front of the boarding line. Always so chaotic. When I finally got up there, the guy shook his head at me because I was carrying two backpacks, even though I tried to explain that one wasn’t mine. Fine. I threw Kiwi Guy’s backpack to him, and proceeded boarding two minutes later. The guy looked at me, and then checked both sides of me for the two backpacks. I only had mine, which is pretty tiny and was only half-full. He shook his head at me, and pointed to under the bus. I stared at him.
Me: You’re trying to tell me I can’t take this on the bus?
Driver: (Yells something in Italian, points at my bag, points towards the hold under the bus.)
Me: I’m not putting this under the bus.
Driver: (More Italian, angry gestures.)
Me: This bag is tiny. There’s no reason I can’t take it on! Other people have way bigger bags that got on already!
Driver: (Italian, Italian, Italian.)
Me: Absolutely not. I’m not comfortable with separating from this bag.
Another worker dude enters the scene.
Me: What exactly is the problem here?
Worker Dude: He says you need to put your bag under the bus!
Me: NO! This bag is TINY. I will put it in my lap. I’ve never had a problem with this before, my big bag is already under the bus. Besides, this has everything I need for the journey in here, my food and everything!
(SIDE NOTE: Please keep in mind that this is a 10 hour bus ride, my bag is literally tiny and flat, and there is no way they can expect me to board it with nothing in hand.)
Driver: (In broken English) You can no eat on bus!
Me: FINE I WON’T EAT. But I’m still not separating from it!
Finally, after me making a scene, the guy let me on. The bag was way smaller than so many bags I saw, and I was SEETHING. I couldn’t figure out if he was giving me such a hard time because I was a woman, a foreigner, or both. But he picked the WRONG CHICK to mess with. I’m done letting people push me around. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from traveling solo, it’s to stand up for myself and hold my ground. The bus driver gave NOBODY else a problem, including Kiwi Guy who was just a few people behind me, with a bag the same size as mine. I am no longer going to be nice or apologetic, not when you are trying to make me do things for no reason or you arbitrarily decide you don’t like me.
The bus ride itself was pretty terrible for several reasons. Everyone was loud. So loud. Like, it’s a night bus. At least be aware that there are people trying to sleep – if you have to talk, talk quietly. NOPE. When people were boarding at like, 1am, there were screaming and yelling and laughing. I was so angry at the other customers, but I got even angrier at the driver when he came around and told us off for RECLINING OUR SEATS. This is a NIGHT BUS. That’s why you HAVE RECLINING SEATS. The best part of all of this was that our seats were only back maybe halfway, but the person in front of Kiwi Guy had his back literally all the way. And the driver came and yelled at us for putting our seats back, but didn’t say anything to the guy in front of us until Kiwi Guy was like, um…if we have to put our seats up, then this guy literally has to also… BECAUSE YOU CAN’T FIT. UGH I WAS SO MAD.
We finally made it to Venice at 6am, and it was dark and cold. Desperately, we searched for somewhere warm to sit inside for a bit, and landed on the bus station which was cold and concrete but slightly warmer than outside. We crashed there for an hour before getting yelled at for existing, I guess. So we walked around a bit (at least the sun was out at this point) and wandered into a little cafe. Everything was fine there, it was cute and warm, we had some coffee and croissants…
Until a woman came in and yelled at me for having my feet ON MY OWN chair. It’s really uncomfortable for me to sit with both feet on the ground, so I often figure something else out: at that moment, I had one leg curled under me and the other one scrunched up next to my body on the chair. Okay, it’s not like I was sitting on a couch that I was going to get all dirty. It was like a fucking plastic chair. LIKE WTF ITALY. I glared at the woman (who I presume was the owner or something who had just walked in) and asked her “are you fucking SERIOUS?” before slowly setting both my feet on the ground. Okay, sorry folks, but I’m a fucking adult woman and I literally don’t care how “rude” it is to curl your feet under you in Italy (and I can’t imagine it would be that terrible) but get the fuck over yourself. I’m not sitting with YOU. Let me sit in a way that I’m comfortable.
At this point, I was ready to rip someone’s head off, and I immediately got all my shit together and started heading out- I almost didn’t want to pay because I was so angry, but I didn’t want to get the nice woman who was taking care of us in trouble. But yeah. It’s not been the best 24 hours.
I’m honestly a little glad I only have a few days in Italy left at this point. As nice as some of the people here are, I’m getting a little sick of their bluntness, entitlement, and disregard for everyone around them. I already get angry enough at other tourists; when the locals are pissing me off too, it’s not a good combination. Obviously I’m generalizing: I know that all Italians aren’t like this. But it’s definitely a pattern I’m noticing, and it’s not always even about me. I’ve seen people yell at waiters in restaurants for like, no reason. People don’t wait in lines here, they cut to wherever is convenient for them.
I think one of the hardest things for me about all this is that I was really expecting to love it here – not just for the sights, but for the people. I always pictured Italians as loud and boisterous and maybe a bit yelly, but also full of love and generosity. In some places, this has been my experience, but I’ve also felt very personally attacked by people here a number of times. And I know that’s probably a really dramatic thing to say, but I’m also 99% sure it’s not because of who I actually am, but because of my American accent and my vagina.
So I guess this is all just a lesson for myself as a white American who has the privilege to travel. There are so many people that feel like this – attacked and provoked for things they have no control over – on a constant, daily basis. And I’m lucky that I don’t need to feel like this very often. I always do my best not to judge people (until they piss me off, then I will be a bitch to them) but nobody is perfect. But this, right here, is a reminder that I can always be better. A reminder not to spend too much energy feeling sorry for myself or being angry at the stupid people who were assholes to me, and to instead spend my energy on finding ways to make the world a more open and welcoming place for everybody.
Wow, I’m half asleep and that last paragraph took quite a turn that I definitely wasn’t expecting, but I suppose I feel a bit better about it all now. Thanks for listening, and maybe cross your fingers that I don’t collapse on the sidewalk on my way to the hotel?