Leaving Rome for Orvieto

The funicular to/from Orvieto. You buy a ticket when you get off the train. It's cheap. Definitely do this.

In June 2016 Jeff and I went to Munich, Venice, and Rome together. Then he flew home on July 4th because new job and vacation time and whateverrrr. I was no-way no-how ready to leave in eight days and I knew that I wouldn't be and hey, I'm a teacher so I had time. So I took it. 
I stayed a whole week in Italy by myself.
It was amazing and awesome and terrifying and I cried sometimes. 
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Monday, July 4
We went to Roma Termini together and I was scared down to my traveling shoes (squishy mom sandals). I walked away and immediately messed up by trying to put my paper that had my train barcode thingamajig in a machine on the wall that looked like it should take a ticket or something. I'm standing there tearing this 8 1/2 x 11 sheet down to 2 inches and then trying to get it in the slot (Michael Scott would have a good joke here) and a local walks up asking me what the hell am I doing. When I tried to explain (he didn't speak great English and I spoke nil Italian), he shook his head no, looked at my ticket and made motions for me to go find my damn train already and stop hurting this machine on the wall. So I went to go find my damn train already.

I had timed it to where I would say goodbye to Jeff and go get on my train. Ha ha, oh me oh my. My train was not IN the station. Oh no. My train was waiting for me 1/2 mile away outside of the train station on some weird other track. (I just looked it up. I guess it is Track 25 which is not in the train station but you have to walk by track 24 for 1/3 mile and then you see Track 25 in the distance OUTSIDE.) Hahahha. So I was going to miss it if I didn't scoot my boot. I scooted. I RAN. And made it. Five minutes to spare.  

When my lungs went back in my body and settled down I looked around and felt ugly. Again. These Italians I tell you. They are pretty people. And fashionable. Even trying my best in a dress and a cute hat and some lipstick for Pete's sake (by midwest American standards completely over the top) I felt dumpy and blah. 

I knew from my research that when I got to Orvieto I would have to buy a ticket for the funicular to get to the old part of town up on the hill/small mountain. A funicular! Yes! 
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