Tammie took this picture when we were on the train to Rome. I was tired, but she said I looked “Perky”.

Our plane wasn’t scheduled to take off until later in the afternoon. My daughter Tammie justified the wait by explaining, “If there’s a delay in getting checked in, we’ll still be able to board the airplane on time.” I nodded my understanding.

The building we’d just stepped into was huge and there were hundreds of people moving around, checking in, and dropping off luggage. Tammie pulled out her passport and placed it face down on the screen of a check-in kiosk. It recognized her, and immediately spit out a luggage label and her boarding pass. She instructed, “Now give me your passport.”

I’ve taken three pilgrimages to Europe since 2013. But on those trips, there had always been a tour coordinator who set the schedule and made the necessary arrangements for accommodations and activities. This was my first non-pilgrimage international trip. My daughter Tammie was the coordinator this time. She had bought our airline tickets, rented an Airbnb apartment, and scheduled tours.

Leaving on a jet plane isn’t something I look forward to doing because I’m not a good traveler. I get motion sick easily, my ears ache from changing air pressure, and I dislike being seat-belted in a crowded vehicle for hours on end.

Before boarding a plane, each passenger must go through security where all bags, purses, shoes, and electronics are X-rayed. Then the traveler stands in a scanner. When it was my turn, the alarm went off. Pulled over to one side, a TSA agent gave me a very through pat-down. After walking away, I whispered to Tammie, “Expect this to happen every time I’m scanned. I think my knee replacement sets the machine off.”

Our flight had already begun to board passengers when I remembered what small, uncomfortable bathrooms airplanes have. I informed my daughter, “I’m going to scurry to the airport bathroom before getting on the plane.”

Tammie nodded and said, “That’s okay, but put a little hurry into your scurry.”

Our airplane took off from Minneapolis after 4:30 on a Saturday afternoon. We arrived in Paris, France early Sunday morning where we had to disembark to the tarmac and ride a bus to the terminal. Then, Tammie and I had to walk from one end of the Charles de Gaulle airport to the other end to arrive where our next departure gate was located. We didn’t just walk down one long hallway, we took escalators up and staircases down, then there were more stairs to climb and other escalators to ride down. When we finally arrived where we needed to be, I complained to my daughter, “This airport is a multi-level rat maze!”

After our second flight, it was midafternoon and we still hadn’t reached our destination. To board a train taking us from the airport to the center of Rome required walking several very long hallways that were equipped with moving sidewalks. When we got off the train, we transferred to a subway to get closer to the neighborhood where our Airbnb was located near Vatican City. As with our other transportation transfers, there were more long halls, stairways, and escalators for us to struggle through, pulling our wheeled luggage. Kind strangers often helped me with my luggage on the stairs.

As my daughter and I boarded the crowded subway on the last leg of our journey, I was clearly struggling to step over the gap quickly with my luggage to avoid getting caught in closing doors. A wooman said to me, “Let me help you.” I didn’t bother to turn to look at her.

Suddenly, an Italian woman in the subway car began to angrily shout a steady stream of Italian and slap at me. Tightly clutching my belongings, I spun around to get away from her. Only then did I realize that she was screaming and slapping at the woman who was “helping” me. The person guiltily slipped away, quickly disappearing into the crowd. Thanks to a vigilant native of Rome, I’d been saved from losing the contents of my purse to a pick-pocket thief.

Several stops later, the subway doors opened to release us. Feeling flustered, embarrassed, and tired, I followed Tammie up a flight of steps to a sun-filled crowded street. We were still three blocks from our apartment, but had finally, officially arrived in Rome, Italy!