I Finally Take My Man Bun On A Trip

Free At Last

We left. We’re done.

We. Are. Out.

It was the right time. We’d been planning to leave for Belgrade for a while. For months, actually. Since April or so.

At first we wanted to ship out in the summer. But things kept happening.

The car needed new struts and brakes. Then my arm blew up like Harry Potter’s aunt. (I got a blood clot in my shoulder. Long story.)

We got tired of excuses though. Our jobs were a joke. We’re young. We don’t have kids. Or a house. Or any real responsibilities.

Why were we waiting until we had some imaginary number in our bank account?

It didn’t make any sense. We had to either make the jump or quit talking about it.

So we said screw it and bought the tickets.

The Flight

 Taking selfies on a plane. Kids today are so into selfies. I blame videogames. 

Taking selfies on a plane. Kids today are so into selfies. I blame videogames. 

We flew out of Chicago on Alitalia and had a layover in Rome.

Alitalia is a nice airline. The attendants were great. They were all tall and slender women between the ages of 35-55 and wore neat green outfits with tightly braided buns.

And they all knew what they were doing. Damn good service.

Rome Airport

Italians are intense people. We got to Rome an hour early because of a powerful tailwind, got off the plane somewhere on the runway, and took a bus to the terminal.

 Alitalia has some good lookin' planes. Dat's a purdy plane right there. Mmmhm.

Alitalia has some good lookin' planes. Dat's a purdy plane right there. Mmmhm.

When we got to the actual airport, it was impressive how dressed up all the workers were. Even the blue collar ones. All their haircuts looked expensive, and their clothes did too.

It must be an Italian thing.

While we sat at our gate waiting for the Air Serbia flight we’d be taking to Belgrade, people watching got intense.

We were right in front of the two smoking cabins. They were each about the size of a large bathroom and had walls made of glass.

 Trapped in a glass case of emotion...

Trapped in a glass case of emotion...

And then one of them broke. That’s when things got interesting.

Watching men in bespoke suits wearing tennis shoes and women in designer skirts wait in line to smoke a cigarette in a little glass box drove home just how addictive nicotine is. It was sad to watch and made me feel better about quitting smoking.

Random note: no one waiting in line talked to each other, but once it was their turn in the box, they started talking to each other animatedly. That is something I miss about smoking. I miss the conversations.

Finally it was time to join get on our flight, a short hop from Rome to Belgrade. And I affirmed a fact that I’ve known for the last ten years: Serbian women are gorgeous.

Easily the best-looking stewardesses that I’ve ever seen. Good for them. (Though I think that might be because they don’t have any hiring laws…)

So Now We’re Here

 We live in the left one. It's two levels. The one on the right is separated by floor. 

We live in the left one. It's two levels. The one on the right is separated by floor. 

We’re here. We live in Moira’s Grandmother’s old house. She passed a couple of years back, and I only got to meet the woman a couple of times.

But I remember her being extremely kind. She also approved of me. Because I drove such a “large truck” (’95 Dodge Dakota. BOOM BOOM with that V8 Magnum, son!).

We don’t know how long we plan on being here, but we’re thinking at least six months. Maybe eight.

It’s gonna be a wild ride, and I hope to get a post up at least once a week.


Do you have your own travel plans or an ideal global destination? Let me know in the comments below!