Finally, it was that time of the year again. Spring break 2011 was here, and my family was going to Italy! We were all anxious to get on the plane and enter the beautiful country. I had only seen pictures in Italian class, the open piazzas and gelato stands at every corner, the beautiful water in Venice, the fashion in Milan. I wanted to see it with my own eyes.
For my two sisters and I, this would be the first time being on the other side of the world, so we couldn’t wait to get there. We boarded the plane and found our seats. Over the intercom we heard the pilots talking. “Thank you for choosing American Airlines; please enjoy the flight.”
I wouldn’t call plane rides “enjoyable” though. The flight attendants tried making this experience a happy one with their fake smiles and weak offers. Especially for this long plane ride, they basically wanted to become friends with my family. They kept talking about how great Italy would be. I honestly just wanted them to stop talking and let me “enjoy my flight”. Something that really pisses me off is when the flight attendants roll that annoying drink cart down the aisle that knocks my elbow every time it passes. I turned to my sister. “Kim, if that cart hits my elbow one more time, I swear to God I’ll--”

“Can I offer you a bag of peanuts or a beverage?” the flight attendants asked.
Annoyed I said, “No. No thank you.”

“Yes, I’ll have a Diet Coke,” Kim loudly said.

“Is Pepsi okay?”

“ Oh, oh sure, that’s fine.” Kim said, but she really wanted the Coke.

There was no way to be happy when the food was gross and I could literally see the grease floating at the bottom of my plastic container from my lasagna.
“We just served the dinner for tonight. All of you got the choice of lasagna, or a turkey wrap. Please enjoy your dinner.”
I got lasagna. “ Dad, do you see this? This is sick.”
“Jill, we are on an airplane. What do you expect?”
“Dad look at it; that is fricken gross.”
My dad looked at me and took a great big bite of his lasagna and said, “ Eat up!”


The flight attendants of course talked up all the great food we would have, “ The lasagna is new, and American Airlines has the best menu than any other airline!”
Just as I am thinking about taking my first bite of my dinner, my tray slammed into my ribs, and my fork fell on the ground.

“Okay, what the hell.”
My sister laughed at me. “The dude in front of you put his seat back all the way.”
“Perfect! I am already grossed out by the food, now I am claustrophobic. I love airplanes.” I said sarcastically. But, finally after a long, annoying, baby crying, plane ride we were in Milan, Italy.

I was just beginning to enjoy breathing in the fresh, cool Italian air when my mother yelled, “Run!” We had to sprint to a bus to Venice, trying so hard to push through our tiredness and lug our bags to the bus.
“C’mon guys we have to ma---” My dad’s suitcase hit a railing, a wheel fell off, he fell, then got up hoping no one saw. “Just go!!!”

Finally on the bus, the ride was quite interesting-- from the people on it and the crazy bus driver that would whip us around every turn causing our bags to fall out of the unstable suitcase holder. It seemed like we were the only ones in the bus that were phased by this type of driving.

“ Jill, can you go put our bags back on the holder?”
I walked toward the suitcase holder and all eyes darted at me, like it was sin to go pick up our bags.
“Is this some kind of show or something?” I whispered under my breath.

We finally arrived in Venice when it was pitch dark and my dad said that it would be an easy walk to our hotel. That’s when our big journey began, at ten o’clock at night.
Venice has a lot of water, which means a lot of bridges, which had a lot of steps to get down off the bridge. And there was my family, looking like the usual American tourists, walking around aimlessly, dragging our suitcases behind us.

“Girls, sh!” my dad said, annoyed.

“Dad we are trying to be quiet, we can’t help that our 5,000 pound suitcases that we have been pulling for 45 minutes are slamming down the steps.”
He looked at us.

“Okay fine; we will try to help the bags down each step.”

Laughing at each other, everyone staring at us, nothing was going to help the sound of our slamming suitcases. We got looks from everyone we passed and Italians said things to us with their hands flying everywhere, but we kept going. We eventually got very frustrated with each other because we all knew we were lost but no one wanted to say it because my dad would flip! He’s the type who gets a certain tone and his voice goes up an octave and he kind of raises his eyebrows when he talks to you. We all usually know when it’s coming, so we hold back a bit, but boy did he have that tone.

“ Bob? Don’t you think its time we ask someone for directions to our hotel? We have been walking for an hour and a half,” my mother said.

“Okay fine,” my dad said with a annoyed but defeated tone.
We began to ask around.
“Excuse me but can you--”
“Oh-- No-- N-- No English.”
We got that answer multiple times. Finally after asking multiple people that were no help, we saw a policeman.

“Excuse me, sir. We need some help finding our hotel. Can you please help us,” my mom desperately said.

“Oh yes yes!! I know that hotel! Come.” The policeman was very reassuring.

We walked several blocks with him. We walked down an alley, and there it was. Seeing the hotel sign felt like seeing your bed after running six miles, so refreshing. I actually hugged my mom I was so happy. After what seemed like days, we had made it to our destination. Our eyes were heavy and could no longer stay open, so we settled in and went to sleep.

We rented a car because after touring Venice, we were going to drive to Florence, Rome, Ponte Buggianese, and other stops. Arriving at the car rental, a nice, little, Italian man showed us what we thought would be the smallest car we had ever seen. In Italy, they either drive small cars or scooters because the streets are very narrow. But, rather, we got a van-- a very ugly, embarrassing van.
“Are you kidding me? This thing is huge. The Italians are going to stare at us thinking we’re driving a truck!!” my sister said.

Looking at the van, I imagined us all in it and the looks we were going to get as we cruised down the streets of Italy.
Chuckling, my dad hopped in the driver’s seat. “Well, let’s go everyone!”
We all packed in the back. We looked like clowns in this damn car, but we were ready for Florence.

I was asleep most of the drive, but I remember waking up to Adele blasting and my dad singing along to “Someone Like You” because he bought her CD at a gas station. He always needs to play the music really loud and sing to it so he stays awake while everyone else is sleeping. “ Are we in the fricken Swiss Alps?!” my dad later yelled out. That’s when we figured out we were going the wrong way. Even though my dad wasn’t talking, we all knew that he was so pissed off because he hated when he got directions wrong.

After doubling our traveling time, we were finally in Florence. But again, we had trouble finding the hotel, just our luck. We must have driven laps around the city. On and off the phone with our concierge, we were having a lot of trouble. I remember vividly taking a left turn onto some sort of bridge. Suddenly, we turned the corner and police immediately surrounded our van telling us to back up and yelling crazy things in Italian.

“This is sacred, very sacred. This is the Ponte Vecchio!” the officer cursed at us.

My heart sank. I remembered learning about this sacred bridge in Italian class. No cars were allowed on this bridge. My family was the classic American group of tourists who drove on an actual landmark. They had to get all of my dads information. I couldn’t stop picturing my dad in an orange jump suit sitting in an Italian jail. But, my sister and I had our faces pressed into the seat cushions, hiding our tears from laughter.

There is never a dull moment with the Brinati family. A few months later, my dad received a ticket for what happened in Italy. Just when we thought we had forgotten about it, all the great memories from the best spring break trip came rushing back to all of us.