Honeymoon of Horrors--Part 3

So we left off here, but if you are new to this tale, start here.

When we left our sad-sacked honeymooners, they were in a great city, great hotel, but with no clothes. No problem, right? Run to your local Walmarts and grab some cheap replacements until the bags show up. Oh wait? They don't have Walmarts in Italy? What about Tarjay? It is fancy, they must have it in Italy? No, hmmm...what about a drug store with the 3 pack of Hanes undies and undershirts? CRAP, I miss America.

Okay, I never said any of those out loud, but I thought them.

Our lovely, English speaking hotel concierge would call the baggage handlers every 3 or 4 hours and would update us with, "It should be here in 3 to 4 hours." Now, you would think after 2 days, we would just say, "Oh let's just get some new clothes." But two things deterred us every time:
1.) Every time our concierge would say "3 to 4 hours," it was done with such passion and assurance and examples that he had assurances from people from the airport that it was on their way that we believed that it would be 3 or 4 hours for our luggage reunion. A couple of times it was the wrong luggage, that hurt worse than no luggage at all. I almost took someone else's luggage not caring if it fit at all, just to have something to wear.

2.) Italian shops are fancy and expensive and are scary to the two of us who stink of airplanes, McDonald's, and rain. We looked and smelled like wet dogs. It was not our most attractive moment. And I did not have the guts to walk in and ask for clothes in my broken Italian.

Related sidenote: If you have been to Rome, have you ever noticed that every other store is a racy lingerie store. You do realize that when you are walking past, in need of fresh underwear (sorry, it is the truth, people), and the pink lace thong in a size two holds no appeal to you. Esp. in the wet jeans you have been sporting for 4 days.

We would go into stores while we were sightseeing but KW was sure our stuff would be there when we got back and with our luck, we knew as soon as we laid out over $100 worth of clothes...our luggage would be waiting for us. If we had known how long that would have been, $100 would not have been that much to pay.

By day 4 we were getting nervous, we were going to Florence for a day to visit my friend who was studying art up there. KW started his conference the day after that and he had to have a suit. That meant blowing a huge amount of money on a Italian suit that would probably not fit right, because we didn't have time for tailoring. Awesome.

Thankfully, the night before we left for Florence, KW's hanging bag showed up (just his hanging bag, btw). So we had his suits and a suit of mine that I couldn't wear because it was too long to wear with flats. Now, if you were me, you might say, "WHATEVS, wear the pants and let them drag." But I wanted to hold on to my dignity and the fact that we were newly married with not a lot of money, and this was a new suit...I couldn't be swayed. I did wear it around the hotel room and to dinner that night, where we had our first non-McDonalds meal. KW ended up giving me a piggy back ride after awhile to stop me from whining about my new pants.

With all of these trials, I was a whiner. I complained and cried and lamented the loss of all my cute clothes that I was wearing on our honeymoon. And on that last night after dinner (when I put back on my wet jeans after dinner), we went down to the Circus Maximus and KW had had enough.

My complaining and pouting were not to be deterred. He was making the most of the situation like the trooper he always is. This time in my fit-pitched induced hysteria, I did not notice that my ballet flats that were wet and worn for 5 non-stop tourist days were stretched so far that my feet were coming out of them. So, when I was trying to catch up to KW for one final fit, I slipped on a cobble stone and felt a pop.

Now, I was not down for the count but I was hurt. I started crying real tears at this point and hobbling behind my irritated husband because he thought I just found fresh tears from a new fit. I finally, eek out a small "KW." And he turns around, clearly frustrated and growls, "WHAT NOW!?!" (sidenote: he never raises his voice...KW-yelling is more of an attitude than volume.) I whimper: I think I twisted my ankle.

Instantly, his face softens. He looks around, points, and says, "Go in there and buy some shoes."

There is the Pollini shoe store. I don't say anything to him. I simple walk in request a shoe in the size I think I am in European sizes (thank God for growing up in the fad of Birkenstocks). The shoe fits, we buy it. All is right in the world. We have no idea how much we paid for them. And I didn't care.

They look kinda like this:
Except they say Pollini instead of Coach and are pink. I will take a picture of them shortly.

After that, we find a United Colors of Benetton and buy some shirts and weird cotton like underwear. I still could not find pants that would cover my ankles because I am tall and they were switching to spring wear.

While the rest of the trip was not picture perfect, it was smoother sailing.

We got up to Florence to see EB. She showed us around, went to the pharmacia with me to get an ace bandage, let me wash my jeans and lent me some PJ pants, and then came back and stayed with us while KW was in his conference. We had a lovely girlie time while he was working. It involved a lot of leisurely eating and drinking, which is my only goal when I vacation and something KW has never mastered on any trip.

My luggage? Oh, yes, it showed up the night before we left. I wore every single bit of clothing for those 6 hours. And it felt glorious.

It took me a little while to find the humor in the trip, but I hope that you are able to get a chuckle out of it.

The bright side: I learned a lot about me and my husband, which kind of the point of a honeymoon, right?
The very bright side: I think we will continue to make up for our Honeymoon Horror for the next 60 years.