The Trip back to Siracusa
So off we went, traveling in our tiny tourist bus, headed for Siracusa. We had a terrific, just a real swell time in Palermo, but we were ready to get home. We rolled along for about an hour and a half, two hours, and then disaster struck. I smelt something bad and assumed it was another car we had passed, but I shortly realized it was our bus. We pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. Our bus driver hopped out and popped the lid and started rummaging around the engine. We were told it was busted (not really sure what had actually "busted") and that we were basically in the middle of no wear. Sicily's highway (two lanes in each direction) basically cuts through the island as a means of connecting the different sides of the island. Obviously this isn't the land of rest stops and whatnot, but the nearest town was at least 30 minutes away, so even if we got a replacement bus (on a sunday), we were in for a wait. So as young adults do, we started cracking jokes about just how long we could last. If you know me, then you know I had a bag of cookies with me, so I was negotiating deals for cookies, and so forth, but overall we were in pretty good spirits. So we're told another bus is coming, as well as a mechanic, so which ever gets to us first will be our way home. We were fine with waiting, but just then one of our professors says "right, guys, you're coming with me!". Wait. We aren't going to PUSH the bus are we??? Yes. We were. We hopped out, got behind the bus, (all three of us) and pushed. And what do you know, IT WORKED!!! I pushed a bus and started it in the middle of the countryside in Sicily!!!!* So we raced to get back on, and our bus driver floored it! He wanted to get as close to the next town before our bus broke down again. He blazed through a tunnel, which in Sicily always go through a mountain they couldn't afford to go around, and we were trucking along, until again the bus died. This time, we were half in the road, half in the shoulder, and cars were blazing by us (they drive pretty fast here, even past a stranded bus). So we were told another bus would come get us, because they had some room on board and were headed in our direction. So this was great news, however I raised the question to the bus, just who was going to be on the bus?? Cause they had obviously just received the same message, "We are picking up a bus of American kids" and probably felt a certain way about it... My guess was old German tourists or something, people totally different from us. So the rescue bus finally arrived, and we ran from our bus to their bus. I come up the steps, and all I see are boys, about my age. I soon realized there guys were a soccer game, and by the smell, coming home from a game. What are the chances! Turns out they were the youth team of a small town in Sicily, called Enna. They started talking to me, (my professor kindly told them my name) and they had a fun time laughing at my soccer knowledge. Anyways, we drove to Enna, dropped all of them off, then headed home, and ended up with quite the story. So in the end, kids, don't take silly selfies with a giant Jesus portrait or else...