Bus Ride to Pescara

Arriving in Rome was not quite the triumph I thought it’d be. By that point I was extremely tired, pissed at afore mentioned blondes, and nauseous. I’ve become quite the fail at not getting nauseous on plane rides. After getting my checked bags and consolidating I headed out of the airport trying to find the bus my host mom told me about. There were signs pointing and saying where to go to get to “the bus station”. Lies. There is no bus station. Buses just stop along the street outside the airport and you figure it out. I was quite lost for a while and stood with all of my bags trying to get the courage to ask for help in English, I hate looking like a lost tourist! And again getting that lonely-I-want-a-travel-companion urge.  It was then I saw a Prontobus pull up, and I recognized the name of the service as the company I was trying to connect with. So I headed over to it and figured out it was headed to Pescara. This was finally the triumph I was looking for! It felt so good to figure out how to get to Pescara in that mess all by myself with no Italian skills. So if you’re trying to bus to Pescara, there it is, head outside and look for the yellow prontobus heading that way. Turns out nobody on or around that bus spoke English as I tried to ask if I needed to buy a ticket somewhere else to get on the bus. Apparently, at least for this bus company, you can buy a ticket when you get on. Knowing the words “Pescara” and “si” were all I needed, communication win!

By this point it was about 2am Seattle time and I was tired. But I was determined to stay awake and drink in my first two hours of being in Italy. Turns out the bus ride took three hours. I was not happy about that. However, if, like I hope in writing this blog ,that you might be interested in heading to Pescara, this bus ride was very scenic. You go from Fiumacino with its hay bales and graffiti, to the lower hills above Rome with farms and monasteries, then to the mountains with the most gorgeous hill top towns, before heading down the other side of the mountains to Pescara. I hope I have a day to go visit one of those towns. I love cities that sprawl down a hillside with houses stacked one upon the other, leading to some sort of castle or church at the top. There is a surprising number of them as well. So many undiscovered Abruzzo charms.

I wish I had taken pictures of them but everybody on the bus was a some sort of local, and I didn’t want to pull attention to myself as a young touristy woman heading to Pescara alone. No need to draw that sort of attention. Hopefully I’ll have a chance to take quality pictures of them at some point though.

In order to make up for this, here’s a horribly low quality iphone picture of the espresso machine they had on the charter bus. So amazing.


One last tid bit I learned on this bus ride: Italians have loud, obnoxious, musical ring tones and are not afraid to let their phones ring. It’s not like the US where everyone always has their phone in their pocket on vibrate. The old Italian man sitting in front of me got called countless times to the repetition of “Mr. Saxobeat”.

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