This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at MSU chapter.

I am an extremely experienced traveler. From the time I was three months old, I was on a plane at least once a year to see my grandparents in Florida. I know the ins and outs of the Chicago O’Hare Airport like the back of my hand. That being said, I had never flown by myself or traveled outside of the U.S. There were school trips and flights with my sister, but I was always with at least one person I knew.

This past May, I embarked on my first solo trip – and my first trip abroad. I spent two weeks in southern Italy, exploring as much as I could while sipping Aperol spritzes and eating an ungodly amount of pasta. I took a nine hour direct flight from Chicago to Rome followed by another six hours of land travel. Until my grandfather and our Airbnb host picked me up from the train station in Naples, I would be on my own.

I usually spend my time in the airport wrangling my family. We like to wander, but the airport is not the time nor the place to take a leisurely stroll. To nobody’s surprise, getting through check-in and security by myself was a breeze. I even had enough time to spend $10 on a smoothie and immediately drop it on the carpet in front of my gate.

Once settled in on the plane, I took inventory of the accommodations provided by my airline. I had never been on a flight longer than four hours, so I was excited about my “overnight bag” with a pillow, blanket, and lip balm, among other toiletries. Even more exciting: I could adjust the clarity of my window! Instead of a vertical slider to adjust how much light I wanted to let in, there was a button underneath the window to brighten and dim the view on command. I really liked this feature, as my flight was from 5 p.m. CST to 9:15 a.m. local time and I wanted to get as much rest as possible.

After about an hour at our cruising altitude, I received the answer to an age-old question: The deal with airplane food…is that it was shockingly tasty. I was served a hot dinner, a snack, and breakfast. The most memorable meal was the chicken and couscous I had for dinner.

I spent the majority of the flight watching episodes of “Glee” and drifting in and out of consciousness. I have never been the type to nap comfortably on long trips, whether they be on the road or in the air, so I was glad to sleep at least a little. After all, the plane ride was the easy part of my journey.

Once the plane landed in Rome, I flipped on my Big Girl switch: I was a 21-year-old American girl in a foreign country for the first time, completely alone, still halfway across the country from my destination, and the next phase of traveling was public transportation. It was time to lock in.

While I had never traveled outside the U.S. before, I still knew a decent amount about European culture from my time in German classes and on YouTube. I knew that in addition to Italian, signage would have pictures or an English translation. I was able to locate baggage claim, and more importantly, the bathroom, pretty quickly.

After relieving myself and collecting my gargantuan pink suitcase, I confronted the train ticket kiosk. I needed to board the train from Aeroporti Di Roma to Roma Termini, or the airport to the main train station, to get on my train to Naples. The airport is just outside of the city of Rome, much like my regular airport is just outside of Chicago. It was as if I was taking a train from O’Hare to Union Station. I was able to complete my transaction in English and followed more signs through a foyer, down some hallways, and up an escalator to the train tracks.

The ride into Rome was a little longer than 30 minutes. I saw lush countrysides, farms riddled throughout the green hills, and more graffiti than I was expecting. It was crazy to see this land and know how much history it’s been through. I knew that I would walk through buildings that were older than my home country on this trip, but the train ride was when it really hit me. My second shock came when the train pulled into the train station.

I’m not sure what I was expecting metropolitan Rome to be like, but it was 10x busier. There were people EVERYWHERE. There were around 20 sets of tracks with a large standing area perpendicular to where the trains pull in, and beyond that was a variety of shops from McDonald’s to Nike to Sephora. I was exhausted and had an hour and a half before my next train, so there was only one thing to do next: order coffee.

I admit, I struggled through ordering my first Italian coffee. I had no idea what I was doing and didn’t know what to expect from the transaction – not to mention that I didn’t know any Italian. I miraculously ended up with a teacup of espresso with white, milk, and dark chocolate draped over the side of the cup. It was hot, sweet, and just what I needed.

I spent an embarrassing amount of time wandering the platforms to find my train. After a while, an American woman came up to me and helped me read the schedule. My train wasn’t even on the posted schedule. She looked at my ticket and directed me to the end of the platform where I had originally gotten off and my train pulled up a few minutes later. I think that 20 minute span was the most stressful part of the whole journey.

My second train ride was about 70 minutes. More countryside graced my window before giving way to tall, cramped tan buildings covered in clotheslines and graffiti. I lugged my (still huge) suitcase off the train to meet a dreary, rainy Naples. Fortunately, I was able to find my grandfather and our host quickly to begin my last leg of travel: a three-hour car ride through the mountains.

I slept through most of the drive. In my head, it was around 5 a.m. and I had no idea how long I had been awake. I remember waking up a few times from various cars honking and our vehicle making near-180-degree turns along the mountain roads.

We arrived in the quaint and secluded town of Sant’Agata sui due Golfi just as I was waking myself up again. “Sui due Golfi” means “between the gulfs,” which made perfect sense: We were on a peninsula with Sorrento to the north and Torca to the south. It was quiet and comfortable, away from major tourist destinations, but close enough to take public transportation to more popular areas.

A few days later, the rest of my family arrived. I spent two weeks soaking up every new experience possible with the people I love the most. I will value my time in Italy for the rest of my life, but the journey made it all the more special.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles: My experience traveling abroad by myself

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