Italy at last

As soon as I knew it, we got back on the bus, bright and early (5 am), and headed to the airport. The excitement was overwhelming and the flight felt as if it were forever. Finally, the plane was descending over what appeared to be the Swiss Alps. Then, a sunny, picture book, country side in Italy, our new home. It was just how I imagined. Small brightly colored houses on what appeared to be farms. We flew into Pisa, a small airport that was a very long bus ride to Lido Di Camiore, the beach town in which we would live for two weeks for orientation. Nevertheless, the ride was amazing. I was tired but forced myself to stay awake to admire the scenery.  Churches covered  the very top of mountains. Villas wrapped around the mountainsides. We traveled along a winding high way that crossed over bridges and through mountains. It was at the airport that we were given an envelope and inside were our roommates for orientation. My roommate ended up being a girl from Long Island that I had been talking to for months prior to our arrival. I'm not sure if I will ever be able to describe my feelings that day, the day I arrived in the country my great grandparents immigrated from.