Last Week/First Week

Well, I'm back at home.  Which means that I'm writing on an English keyboard, so please excuse any bizarre punctuation because each time I use an apostrophe I need to search for it.
I left you at the end of my tour, so here's my last week in Italy, and my first week back home.

I got back from traveling completely exhausted, wanting only to sleep for a week or two, but it was not to be!  With my exchange twin about to arrive, my host mom wanted the house ready, which meant that I needed to clear out the closets.  So instead of a relaxing day after a hectic two and a half weeks, I frantically did laundry and started packing up.  It was a bit of a repeat from last September when I was packing to go to Italy.  My host mom would glance into my room, see me distracted by a book or a piece of paper, knee deep in clothing and knick knacks, and promptly say, "What on earth are you doing!?!?!  Look at this place!!"  So it was a little stressful, but by the afternoon I was essentially packed.  One must wonder, however, why nothing seems to fit into the bags you brought them in.  I went to Italy with one 50lb checked bag, and a lot of carry on, and I returned with two checked, and still a lot of carry on.
That evening we went to the country house, enjoying a relaxing day and a half there, before returning to Palermo, to pick up my exchange twin!  We were met by several of her friends at the airport, and we all waited with excitement.  When she did arrive, I was surprised by how normal it felt to be around her, almost like she'd been there the whole time.  It was strange to hear my name from her, though, as she said it without the Italian accent I'd become accustomed to.  (My name from an Italian has the i as more of an ee sound, and the ll's are emphasized.)
It was good that the closets were ready for her when she arrived, as she had brought a lot of clothing home.  As she said, "when I had money to spend on food while traveling, I didn't eat.  I went shopping." (I could be described as the opposite - I ate instead of going shopping.)
My last few days were excellent.  I went to the beach with friends, spent some time with the kids of the house I volunteered at, had a dinner with the other exchange student families, went out for pizza and gelato, bought some last minute souvenirs and gifts, as well as just hung out at home with my host family.  And I was really happy that I didn't have to worry about packing!  My friends and I organized an afternoon together, where they signed my flags, and I ate the largest brioche con gelato of my life.  Well, it was my last Sicilian gelato for a long time, so I went out with a bang - three flavours, whipped cream, smarties, pistachio sauce, cereal.
And then it was time for my last dinner with my host family, afterward exchanging gifts.  I was certainly pretty sad.

 

 Some of the kids I worked with this year.

 

Host family, from left to right: exchange sister, host dad, me, host sister, host mom.

 

Me and my brioche con gelato.  Yes I ate all of it.  I regret nothing.

 

My friends and I.

The next morning I got up prepared for my trip back home.  We left the house at 5am local time, to catch my 6:45 flight to Rome.  A tearful goodbye later, I was on my flight out of Palermo.  I had nearly four hours in Rome, and that ended up being pretty good, as the Rome airport is a bit of a sterilized version of Italy, so it didn't feel like I was leaving Italy on my flight to Philadelphia, because I'd left that behind in Palermo.  In Rome I caught up with Alexis, a girl from Nevada who'd had her exchange in Bari, Puglia.  I was happy to not have to fly on my own. 

 

With my host family in the airport, my face puffy and red from crying.  I'm also sporting the highly popular ill-fitting Rotary shirt.

My flight to Philadelphia was fairly uneventful, though I was shocked at how American it felt.  It sounded different, felt different.  I managed to get a bit of sleep, however, which I was grateful for.  In Philadelphia, Alexis and I were separated as I went through the non-American side for customs (which had a very large line up and caused me a great deal of stress, as my layover wasn't very long), then through security, then I ran through the airport, just in time for my flight.
And then we were stuck there for nearly three hours. On the plane.  So I arrived late into Denver, missing my flight to Spokane.  Alexis and I spent the night in the airport, then I saw her off on her 9:15 flight.  I had been booked for the 3:40 flight, but was hoping for the earlier flight at 11:20, so went to put myself on the standby list.  While waiting at the gate, I told my story to a fellow passenger, and he said "That is ridiculous!  People like you should get priority on the standby list!", and told the flight agent that he'd take the later flight, to free up another space on the earlier one.  It was an amazing reminder of how wonderful people are - if there's anything I've learned this year, it's that people are great.  So I made it on the earlier flight, making it to Spokane by mid day.
I was so happy to see my family again, seeing my sister for the first time in 10 months.  We drove home, where I was able to see many of my friends again.
This last week has been amazing, but at the same time very strange.  I am still feeling the effect of jet lag and my traveling (the first days I was so sore from sleeping on the planes that I couldn't lift things), so I feel tired a lot.  It's so weird to be in a place so familiar, that hasn't seemed to have changed, but then notice little things - a new coffee mug in the cupboard, a  new display in the grocery store.  It feels almost like I haven't been away, and except for some photos, some items, and some memories, I have no proof.
I tell everyone that I haven't changed at all, but I get the response of "Are you kidding?!? You're so different!!".  So I feel confused, a lot.  Sort of like my first weeks in Italy.
But it's really nice to be back.  My friend found me a job here at an Italian restaurant, so I get to practice my Italian, and eat amazing food, and get paid for it.
So that was my ten months in Italy, a beautiful place, with beautiful people, and somewhere I hope to see again.  Thanks for your interest!

On Learning Italian

Alternative Title: The Least Efficient and Most Frustrating Way to Learn a Language
(inspired by Lauren's at http://abiglongrunonsentence.blogspot.com/2011/06/on-learning-norwegian.html) )
I would say that I struggled a little (ok, a lot) with Italian. I know it's my own fault, I know I didn't study enough, so I can only aim my frustration at myself. 
Before I arrived:
Knowing I was going to Italy, I tried to connect with some Italian speaker in Trail. Unfortunately, we weren't able to work anything out, so I listened to loads of podcasts. I managed to figure out most greetings, how to get someone's attention, how to get by someone, and of course, the essential, "where is the bathroom?". I also began studying a few verbs. I would say that I didn't do enough (ok, I did hardly anything) to prepare myself. 
Arriving
I had to ask for directions in the Rome airport, so I said, "mi scusi, dov'è [gate - in English]". I rock. My host mom is alright in English, so translated a lot for me before my host sister arrived. I really wanted to learn Italian, and I would study all the time. Unfortunately, I wouldn't really get anywhere in time for my first rotary presentation, on my second full day in Italy. The other girls were all able to give short speeches in Italian, while I gave mine in English. I was embarrassed. The other students in my district had already studied Spanish, French, or Italian, and were far better than me and I was really frustrated. 
In the first few days, I learned the essentials - where I'm from, how I'm called, how to ask the meaning of a word, and how to ask the names of things around me. 
But I didn't use Italian enough. My host sister spoke English, and was able to translate for me. I would study grammar online and would try to say several phrases each day, but I was really self conscious and translating was exhausting. And so my Italian progressed really slowly. My grammar books were too complicated, online too interrupted (oh yeah, and Italian grammar is difficult). 
I continued, however, and over Christmas, got a new grammar book, greatly improving my understanding. I would study by translating, reading, and watching movies. In December, I remember the tipping point, when Italian sounded less like a mush of rolled R's and vowels, and more of an actual language. From there, words became words I understood, or could easily ask the meaning of. In the New Year, I began understanding films a lot better, and reading became much easier. 
Though I write "speaks Italian" on my resume and scholarship applications, I still feel like a beginner. Understanding still requires concentration, and when I read I still look up a lot of words. When I'm out and someone says something to me in English, I automatically respond in Italian, having to think twice to switch. But I still have to think sentences out once in a while, or ask how to say something. 
I used English less and less as the year wore on, even speaking Italian with the exchange student I walked to school with each morning (first because I really needed the extra practice, then because we realised that we only had one year to speak Italian, so we may as well). 
I've missed the ease of speaking and understanding, but one of my goals for an exchange was to learn another language, and for the most part, I'm happy with how much I've achieved. It's amazing to realise that I can speak two language.  But if I ever have kids, I'm going to do anything I can to raise them bilingually, because struggling this year has not been fun. 

A few more language notes
Italy was unified politically in 1861, 150 years ago, and before that it was a collection of kingdoms and states. So though Italian is the national language (based on Tuscan, I believe), there are many regional dialects and languages. Having one host parent from Tuscany and the other from Sicily led to some disagreements on Italian. More people speak Sicilian in the country than in town, and I'll admit, I understand about as much of Sicilian as I do French. Sometimes there are simply different words, other times the pronunciation makes understanding difficult. 

Some things I'm not going to miss/some inefficiencies

Though I've enjoyed my year here immensely, and even if I were to start my year again and choose where within Italy to go, I would choose here, there are a few things I'm just not the biggest fan of. This list reflects some of the different values between Sicily and BC, but nothing is set in stone. 

Obsession With Plastic
When I first arrived, I thought, oh wow, when all you drink is espresso, you don't need a "to-go" cup! Unfortunately I was wrong. Little plastic cups with lids and stir sticks are common. As are plastic plates. And, of course, whenever you buy bottled water, pop, juice, you get a plastic cup as well. 
And the bags. Coming from Rossland, I am used to the "take only as many bags as you absolutely need" approach, cloth bags are normally used at the grocery store. Here, bags of potatoes get another bag, it is weird to refuse a bag, one item gets you a bag. And they love shrink-wrapping vegetables - one avocado? Styrofoam and plastic wrap. 
Of course, all of this essentially disappears if you go to an outdoor or old fashioned market, where produce sellers form cones of paper, expertly wrapping so that apples and cherry tomatoes don't escape. Also, new laws are now in place, and biodegradable bags are far more popular, as are reusable bags. 

And with Water
As I mentioned in a previous post, according to Palermitanans, water must be bottled or filtered to be considered safe to drink. I find this especially bizarre, as one of the first things mentioned to me by my host family was to be careful with water use at home, as city water is expensive. No problems with buying bottled water, though?

A particular irony I find with both of the above is that there is the problem of garbage. Italy is a relatively small country, with a population of 60 million. Generally speaking, lots of people = lots of garbage. Efforts such as the differentiated garbage certainly help by recycling, but the first of the three R's is "reduce". 

City Living
It has plenty of great aspects - public transport, variety, the swimming pool among many - but I found the city alienating, overwhelming. And I have a strong aversion to concrete. 
Though surrounded by mountains, Palermo is flat. And though I live on the fifth floor, all I really see are other buildings. From the window of my school I see Mount Pellegrino, which is lovely, but communications towers really aren't the same as trees. It's not that there's no green in the city, it's just that there's a lot more cement. There is a park nearby where I live, but it is frequented by prostitutes and drug dealers, so I'm not allowed to go in. 
And I've really missed skiing and snow. The beach is not the best replacement. 
Also, I missed the small town feel. My friends laughed when I told them about the size of Rossland - less then twice the population of my school here. To them, a small town is restrictive, and don't understand when I say I miss the intimacy. 
So, though I feel lucky to have been in Palermo this year, I'm not sure if I would choose it as a place to live. 
 
Being Stared 
According to everyone, it is beyond obvious that I'm foreign. At first I didn't really get this, and I asked all my friends what I could do to blend in. "Michelle," they'd say, "there's nothing you can do about it. You just look foreign."   I guess even without speaking (which would give me away immediately), I just have a few too many non-Sicilian characteristics. I'm too tall, too pale, too blonde, my eyes are the wrong colour. And so, since I look a little different, I get a lot more stares on the street (and far too many guys think they can woo me with their "excellent" English...). I'm sure other people would feel flattered by the attention, but I just feel like I'm on display at a zoo...
I've eventually gotten used to the stares, and looking foreign (while still being able to speak half decent Italian) means that I'm forever getting help from people. 

But all in all, I've really enjoyed my year here. The amount that I dislike is far smaller than the amount that I like about it here. Canada is by no means perfect, either. 

On Travelling in Italy

I meant to post this when I was in Genoa, but totally forgot. 
You don't need a car to travel in Italy. Trains will get you there faster, and more comfortably, and are generally reasonably priced. Within cities, or between small towns, check out the busses. The main issue with trains is the other passengers, who can occasionally be smelly or very loud. (I'm on the train to Genoa right now, and the guy next to me does not smell good, AND there's a very loud family sitting behind me. I'm trying to remind myself that I was just like the kids not than long ago). But trains are far more comfortable that busses or planes: you get more leg room, you can see more, you don't need to worry as much about baggage restrictions, the stations line up with city bus lines, and you can generally also find the info centre at the station as well. However, if you are keen for a drive through the countryside, or if you're in a place such as Sicily, a car might be handy. 
Hostels are also nice to stay in, particularly while travelling alone. They cost at least €10 to €15 less than a hotel with shared bath, and you get to meet the coolest people. I've loved chatting with my roommates and other hostel stayers. Hostel necessities are: a towel (preferably quick dry), toiletries (because unlike in hotels, these generally aren't included), shower shoes, and a good attitude (a little bit of friendliness will go a long way). 

Some things I'm going to miss/some efficiencies of Italy

Although I sometimes laugh about how seemingly "infficient" Italy can be, Italy still has many, many strengths. Here are a few I'd love to see implemented in Canada.

Paying by Mass
At panificios (bakeries), bread, cookies, pizza and focaccia are all priced by mass. In Canada, we use this system for produce, meat and cheese, it makes sense to apply it also to bread products. No more "but the last customer got more!" and it works perfectly for pizza or focaccia "a taglio" (by the slice) as you can request the amount to fit your appetite. 

No Tipping
Restaurants charge a service fee - €1 to €3 - then all other charges are included in the price. The prices seem a little high at first, but you are able to see exactly how much it will be from the menu. Prices for dinner would be service fee (also pays for bread) + meal + beverage, all taxes and service included. (I also love the even numbers - I hate dealing with pennies.)
For bars (think: cafe), there are two prices: one if you order from the bar, the other if you order from a server (or plan on sitting at a table that is serviced - if you are unsure, tell them that you plan on sitting down). This additional fee is the service charge like in restaurants. As far as I know, being a server does not mean scraping by. 

Paying Ahead/Not to the Barista
At many bars, you pay to the cashier, before getting your coffee/baked good/sandwich/gelato. The cashier will either give you two part receipt, or the barista will rip your receipt as you take your food. To anyone who says this is inconvenient, I'd like to point the obvious: I don't want whoever is handling my food to be touching my (or anyone else's) dirty, grimy euros. Also, digging for correct change while trying to manage a melting gelato is a pain. 

Public Transport
My friends think I'm crazy when I tell them how much I love the busses here. I live on a major bus route, with busses going by that go to the beach or centre every ten minutes, and busses to the airport every half hour. My friends complain that it's never on time, which I'm not sure I understand because there isn't necessarily a schedule, just a frequency. They also complain that it's too slow. Perhaps if more people took the bus there would be less traffic and the bus would go faster. 
To take the bus here, buy a ticket from a tobacco shop or bar, then stamp when you get on the bus. Regular tickets are €1.30 and are valid for 90 minutes from time of stamping. Unlike Rossland buses, you don't need to worry about incorrect change and you can ride several times on one ticket. Unfortunately there are some downsides as well. Many people don't stamp or buy a ticket, hoping to take as many rides as possible with paying, either stamping or leaving the bus immediately if a controller comes. (I'm one of the bizarre ones that pays for my bus ride.)

Differentiated Garbage
Palermo takes it one step further by separating not only paper, plastics, glass and regular garbage, but also "organics" - anything that will, at some point, biodegrade. In goes coffee grounds, kitchen scraps, leftovers gone bad. Since garbage is picked up a few times a week, garbage doesn't really have enough time to get really smelly. 
Unfortunately this practice doesn't really continue outside the home - recycling is pretty much unheard of at school in one the streets. 

A Greater Attitude of "Sharing"
In restaurants, or for parties, food bills are split evenly, and gifts are nearly always group bought. I rather like this. 

The Food - I think that's obvious
If I don't get my daily carb fix, I'll probably go into withdrawal. Gelato. Beyond amazing. I think it will run in my veins in place of blood by the time I leave. Pizza. Coffee. Desserts. Olive oil. Cookies for breakfast. The simplicity. The freshness. 
And also the attitude around food. Lunch and dinner are always eaten together, never rushed, always enjoyed. 

General Friendliness
People are always willing to help you out, or at least say a few words. Though I normally hate how much attention I get for being foreign, it certainly comes in handy at times. One of the "ten commandments of being an exchange student" was "ask, or be ignorant". I took that to heart, and always always ask questions.  While on the bus or train, I always confirm the direction, and usually someone will say "oh, I get off there, too. Follow me!". Bus drivers and other passengers are eager to give advice and directions.

I'm not sure how well I've explained how great Italy is. I'm not sure I'd want to live in Palermo, but my stay here has been amazing.  

Italian School

I'll admit, I didn't really fall in love with school here. (Not that I was in love with RSS). Daily, I didn't look forward to going to school. It got better toward the end, as I got better at Italian and closer to my friends, but January and February were certainly more on the depressing side, between the cold and the rain, no snow or skiing, and my lack of confidence and skills in Italian. 
I was placed in a great group of kids, aged 17 to 18. They were all very friendly, helpful and patient, allowing me time to think while speaking, and always explaining things to me. 
But classes themselves were either too easy, such as math, physics, or English, taught something I'd already learned, such as history, or was far beyond my ability, such as in Italian and philosophy. I also felt that the teaching style was such that it targeted all my faults and weaknesses. The blackboard was small and rarely used, notes were to be taken word-for-word as the teacher spoke (one teacher even read out punctuation), actual "note" taking nearly unheard of. Textbooks were used to a far greater extent, one teacher's lessons were essentially her reading the book out loud, but most others included a lot of reading and highlighting. Books are purchased here, which I didn't do because they would've cost too much, and I wouldn't have understood them. Marks are based on a few tests and interrogations. 
I would try really hard to take notes during lessons, but would get really lost, really quickly. I originally looked forward to interrogations, picturing myself debating the teacher in philosophy or religion, but ended up not doing any as I realised that the interrogation had little to do with debate, but a lot to do with memorisation. In fact, I found that many tests had to do with memorisation. In math and physics, we had to memorise formula and definitions - something I'd never had to do in Canada - where interrogations for other subjects involved the memorisation of one's notes or text book, to be spewed out, word for word. 
For the first several months of exchange, I would defend the Canadian system, saying that it was no easier than the Italian one. But as time wore on, I realised that I found the Canadian one easier based on level of understanding, teaching technique, and the capability to get a higher mark. 
In Canada, I felt that teachers would go out of their way to help students - staying in lunch hours and after school to give additional instruction - but here, I never saw that. It was also common in Canada for teachers to write full or partial notes on the board - a great help to me, a visual learner (here, it would be easier for acoustic learners - for me, trying to understand Italian was another part of the challenge).  As I mentioned earlier, marks are based on a handful of written tests and interrogations per year. I was used to doing assignments, labs, essays and projects at home that would all contribute to my grade, as well as in-class work, quizzes, and tests. Here, each test or interrogation is marked on a ten-point scale. But it isn't a "free" ten point scale. Teachers reluctantly give below a 5 1/2, or above an 8 1/2, so, from a North American perspective, marks are lumped in the middle, around a 7. A 7 is a good mark - like a B - and 8 a B+/A-, 8 and up an A. Percents do not match numbers exactly - an 88% would be an 8, for example. 
I don't necessarily see a problem with the ten-point scale (though I'll admit I didn't understand it in the beginning), though it doesn't compare well to the North American system. Another exchange student here will be using her 
grades here for credit in the US, and expressed concern in having to explain that an 8 should be considered an A. 
Schools here are separated based on subjects, then classes within each school represent further focus. I was placed in the experimental line at a classics school, so I took math, physics, art history, Greek and Latin (actually, I didn't follow them, my classmates did), history, philosophy, Italian, English, law, religion and physical education. Other lines had French, Spanish, economics, or weighed the subjects differently. 
Other types of schools include scientific, linguistic and artistic, as well as the technical schools that teach accounting, cooking, business, and trades. Classic and scientific schools are, for the most part, still considered the peak of education here. For a long time, only if you went to a classics school could you study whatever you wanted in university, as scientific schools limited you to only sciences in university. 
Something I rather like here is the importance of class representatives. Each class has two, and they are the links between teachers and administrators, and the students. They keep track of tests and who needs to be interrogated, discuss problems and organise meetings, decide whiter or not to protest, among other tasks. 
A final note on Italian school: Italian lessons. 
Italian class had very few similarities to English class in BC. Perhaps this is because English lessons might be described as a communications course as well - the study of literature and writing making up just a part of the curriculum. In Italian class, we had three topics: literature, novel study (The Brothers Karamazov), and the Divine Comedy. In literature we studied short stories, poetry, and authors. The Brothers Karamozov we're about halfway through. In fourth year, we studied "Purgatory", of Dante's work (in third year, "Inferno" is studied, and "Paradise" is in fifth year). Marks are based on interrogations, essays and the occasional long answer test. 
Compare this to my Canadian English class where I studied similar topics - novels, short stories, poetry, essays - but had to present my knowledge differently. Marks were based on research projects, oral and visual presentations, essays, analysis, short and long answer tests, and participation in class. 
Perhaps we're trying to stuff too much into one class in Canada, but I do feel like I learned a lot of very practical skills - planning and writing essays, research and presentation skills, as examples. (Though if my English teacher were to ever read this blog, she would probably cringe and disassociate - grammar and elegant writing are not my strengths.) In Italian class, much of the material was beyond my grasp, but I have enjoyed studying Dante. 

And that has been my experience in Italian school. 

Genoa and the Cinque Terre

I was totally exhausted my evening in Genoa, so I stayed close to my B&B for dinner I rounded the corner and ate salad and pesto pasta, getting the "for your own good, we will not serve you tap water" look (there was even a tap in the square I was sitting in where two people filled water bottles for the house). I opted for the B&B over the hostel, though it cost more, because the hostel was really far outside of the city centre and I wad there on a Sunday, when busses run less frequently. Fortunately, my B&B was right in the city centre. Unfortunately, my B&B was right in the city centre. In the alleys of the town, prostitutes were common, but it certainly wasn't an issue. I never felt "in danger" necessarily, in Genoa, though the tight streets can be a little uncomfortable. 
In the morning, I ate my way though the huge breakfast left for me by the owner of the B&B, before exploring the city for a bit longer. I bought a pin, more focaccia, and pesto before taking the metro to the station. 
Unfortunately I missed the train I originally wanted to take and had to wait a half an hour for the next one. I'm not too bummed about it though, on the platform I met a couple from New Zealand doing a European tour. And so I met some train buddies. And here I thought it would be difficult to find people to chat with on my trip! 
I got to the town I'd be staying in in the Cinque Terre, Manarola, the second one, and hauled my luggage up to the hostel. After check in, I headed to the water. Though there isn't a beach, I had a great time swimming among the rocks. It's pretty sweet to be able to swim in this really clear, blue water, and have tiny fish swim around you. Afterwards, I explored the town, grabbing breakfast and lunch food. I had pesto pizza for dinner (what can I say, I'm in Liguria - I have to get a lifetime's worth of focaccia and pesto in), then chatted with three of my roommates, a set of sisters from Australia. They had finished a month of study in Florence and were planning a European tour. An early night for all of us, though, as we all wanted an early start on the trails the next day. 
I had originally wanted to be on the trail for 7:30, but that didn't work out, and I started 15 minutes late. I had been planning to do the blue trail, which links all five towns, but a part was closed, so I started on the red trail. The red trail is a bit longer and goes into the mountains a ways, but really nice. The first two hours were the best for me. It was still cool (ish), and I didn't meet anyone on the trail. I walked though olive trees and grape vines, past rosemary and basil plants the size of small trees. I saw many local farmers picking fruit or working the land before it got extremely hot. The path was narrow, on the side of a steep hill. The villagers had built terraces and rock walls into the earth, creating the pathways. A more modern addition are the lines of a type of track for a cable car that would climb up and down, carrying a person and their fruit. (Ok that was a terrible description, I have a photo). 
After about two hours I reached the third village, Corniglia (I started on the second). I briefly explored the town, had a snack, and continued onto the blue trail. It was starting to get warm by that point, and I considered not reapplying my sunscreen, but I'd seen enough very sunburnt tourists to decide otherwise. In the fourth village, Vernazza, I enjoyed some of the focaccia I'd packed for lunch, and wandered around the town. Then the last leg of the trail on that end. The trail was getting more crowded by that point (I felt bad for those who were just starting), and even hotter. I arrived at the final village, Monterosso al Mare, where I enjoyed the other half of my lunch, and had a quick swim.
Despite reapplying sunscreen frequently, doing my best to avoid the sun, and drinking lots of water, I was not feeling 100% - a cold granite really helped, and I took it easy for the afternoon. 
I took the train to the first village, Riomaggiore, where I walked around, before taking the Via dell'Amore (way of love) back to Manarola. The Via dell'Amore was certainly the easiest part of the trail, it was smooth and paved while the others were certainly more... Rugged. Many people have left locks along the path, symbolising their love. 
Back at Manarola, I went for one last swim before I went back to the hostel for a shower. 
I was in bed early, hoping for an early start on my last day. If you are ever in the Cinque Terre, start early. You can wander the village and be nearly alone - except for the locals. You'll smell bread baking, see neighbours greet each other - it's really nice. 
I confused the train schedule, so I hung around Manarola a little longer, before taking the train to the middle village. I climbed the four hundred steps to the town, explored the city, then took off for the fourth village. I walked around there for a little while, eating a focaccia con pesto, before going back to Manarola and getting my bags from the hostel. Then on the train again to Monterosso to do a little souvenir shopping, then the train again to Riomaggiore for a quick break before catching the train to La Spezia, where I'd connect to Pisa. 
My host mom once told me that flying out of Pisa to Palermo is usually pretty funny - you can tell the flight is going south, the people on it are usually from there. I was quickly conversing with a pair of women going to Sicily for some sun. 
These last days I've been looking forward to going home, to Palermo. I can't wait to sleep in my own bed, use a non-communal shower, to eat simple, homemade food. But it's strange - Palermo is only "home" for about a week - then I'll be heading back to Canada. I'm having a bit of a difficult time picturing it.